The Boleyn Dance
by Nona Decima Morta
Summary: What if Anne Boleyn arrives in the court of King Arthur Tudor in 1522 instead of that of Henry VIII? Will she still be pushed towards the King as a Boleyn pawn or direct her own destiny? Will she be forced into a loveless marriage by her heartless father, or will there be a man - or prince - willing to make her the most happy?
1. Chapter 1

**Quick note: Arthur Tudor survived Sweating Sickness and is King of England currently (1522) with Catherine of Aragon as his Queen. **

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Chapter I

**February, 1522**

Servants rushed around the courtyard of Hampton Court while courtiers walked leisurely and chatted to themselves, none of them noticing the newest courtier – Mistress Anne Boleyn.

Wearing a maroon cloak that matched her French cut maroon gown and French hood adorned with seeded pearls, Anne glanced around, her passive expression masking the fear and uncertainty that swirled in her stomach. For the last seven and a half years, she had been abroad in the French Court, first serving Mary Tudor, Queen of France (sister of the English King) and then her successor, Queen Claude, wife of the present French king, Francis I.

As much as she loved France and felt she was as much a French noble lady as a native French noblewoman, Anne knew she would eventually return to England to be married off to a nobleman of her father's choice and be a mother.

Anne looked around again, hoping to see a familiar face. As minutes slowly went by, her heart pounded more anxiously as she wondered what she would do. Should she ask for directions to the chambers of His Majesty's loyal ambassador to France, Sir Thomas Boleyn?

Before she could decide, she heard her name.

"Anne! Anne!"

She turned and almost crashed to the stone ground as a figure with a slightly askew hood hurtled into view and crushed her into a tight embrace.

"Mary?" said Anne weakly.

Her elder sister Mary Boleyn (now Mistress Carey after her marriage with William Carey) smiled and broke away, looking at her carefully. "You've grown!" she said decidedly. "You were much shorter when I left France, or are you wearing new shoes with higher heels? What do you think of England, Anne? You have not been here since you were a child! Will you serve the Queen as one of her maid-of-honours, or will you serve your old mistress again?"

Anne laughed; relieved her sister had come to collect her and the large amount of questions that accompanied her. "I missed you greatly," she confessed. "I am so pleased to see you again! If you did not show up, I would not have known what to do! England seems bleaker than France, but I suppose I must get used to it, as I will live here for the rest of my life. Why am I called back to England? Has Father finally resolved the Ormond issue or chosen a husband for me? Your letter was quite vague while Father's was abrupt and more of an order."

Mary stared at her in surprise. "You do not know?! Well! I thought Father would tell you in his letter, but he didn't?! He wouldn't have forgotten it!"

"What is it?"

"Father will be an Earl! We will no longer be daughters of a knight but daughters of an Earl! Is that not exciting?! His Majesty had decided to give our father the earldom of Wiltshire for his services as French ambassador to England. The ceremony is tomorrow! He must've recalled you to England so the whole family can be here for his investiture ceremony."

"How is George?"

Mary smiled as Anne questioned about their only brother, the handsome, charming and witty George Boleyn. "He longs to see you again," she answered. "He claims I am his beautiful sister while you are his clever sister. George is in the Duke of York's circle of friends, and is also respected by the King and the Queen. Father predicts George will be England's youngest diplomat and will be rewarded with a peerage within a few years, or at least before his marriage."

"Oh? Father seems quite confident! I thought His Majesty would be more prudent in issuing peerage in fear of courtiers suspecting him of favouring a certain family. You mentioned earlier that you are now one of the Queen's maids-of-honour?"

"Lady-in-waiting now." Mary smiled. "I am a married woman."

Anne nodded. "Of course. How is the Queen?" She saw Queen Catherine (formally Infanta Catalina of Castile and Aragon) a couple of times during the peace negotiations between France and England in Calais two years ago and found her to be a loyal wife of the King and a pious, loving woman of similar qualities to her mistress – Queen Claude – back then. During her stay in France, she considered herself a devoted maid-of-honour to the religious Queen of France, though personally, she preferred serving Claude's more feisty, short-tenured predecessor.

"Well I suppose," said Mary absently, adjusting her hood while revealing strands of her blonde hair in the process. "The King still visits her everyday and always leads her into the first dance. Even after twenty one years of marriage, the King remains faithful to her. You sound like father, interrogating me on the Queen at least once a week."

Anne blushed. "I'm sorry."

"No, don't apologise! You will serve her soon. Knowing Father, he will convince the Queen to accept you as one of her maids in a matter of hours!"

"When will I meet her?"

"You have a chance tonight." Mary grabbed Anne's hand. "Come! You must change and rest before our father presents you to the King and his family! We can't have you dozing off in your first feast back in England, now can we?"

Anne smiled and allowed her sister to pull her through a maze of corridors until they reached a door identical to other doors they passed. Mary rapped on it twice.

"Enter!"

The Boleyn sisters went in and curtsied to the man in front of them – their father. White-haired with beady, sly eyes, the soon-to-be Lord Wiltshire nodded at them coldly.

"You took a while," he noted, rolling up a piece of parchment and tying it with a red ribbon. "I thought you would've arrived this morning. As you didn't show up, you kept George waiting. It was quite inconsiderate of you as George had to miss a royal hunt with the Duke of York and his younger brother, the Duke of Somerset. What happened? You took too long packing? I gave you plenty of time to prepare your departure from France and expected you at an earlier time!"

Anne was stunned at her father's sudden abruptness that it took her a moment before replying, "The weather was bad, my lord."

"The weather was bad," Sir Thomas Boleyn mocked. "I was told you were clever. Last time I met you, you were indeed witty. I called you back for your wit. Why else would I want you here? It certainly isn't for your ah, beauty! I have Mary here for that!"

"Why did you recall me back to England then, my lord?" said Anne calmly. "If not for my looks but for my wit, what exactly for?"

"The Ormond dispute," her father said promptly. "The 8th Earl has been dead for at least six years and his earldom and lands have not been sorted yet. However, Sir Piers Butler and I have finally come to a decision to end our quarrel. Together, we will write an agreement and present it to the King by the end of the week. Butler will inherit the earldom of Ormond on the sole condition that his son and heir – James Butler – will marry one of my daughters, and as Mary is married to Carey, you will marry James. If he happens to die before the wedding could take place, you will be obligated to marry the next Butler heir, James's brother Richard. Even if Sweating Sickness kills all the Butlers except a Butler boy of four, you will still marry him and I expect you to be a loyal wife to him."

Anne swallowed. "I understand."

"That is not all! Butler's niece (Eleanor) will marry my widowed younger brother, Sir James Boleyn, and Butler will provide her a dowry of five thousand sovereigns. To further secure the alliance, it is also agreed that your future son with James will marry George's future daughter, and if you happen to have a daughter, she will marry George's heir. I will provide your dowry of five thousand sovereigns. I could've arranged your match and tell you now that you will wed James Butler, but I have decided that as you were always complimented as the most intelligent of my offspring, you will use that clever mind of yours and enchant the Butlers – especially Butler's wife, Lady Margaret (née FitzGerald). She has powerful connections and we must convince them to be our allies. Do you understand?"

Anne nodded. "Yes, my lord. When will I meet my betrothed and his family?"

"Planning flattering words already, are you?" He chuckled a little. "Very good. Fortunately for you, the Butlers are already here in England for the ceremony tomorrow. Not only will I be invested as an Earl, but James – and William Carey – are both on the list of courtiers to be knighted. Tonight, I will introduce you to the King and Queen and try and find you a position in the Queen's household. You must impress them both to help me. After the feast, I will speak to Butler and hopefully he will send James to ask you to dance. You must be prepared. I'm certain you are talented at dancing, but Mary will teach you the steps of the most popular dances in the present. Not only do I want you to be a success in the family, but I want you to be the rising star at court. Can you do that for me?"

Anne's eyes sparkled at the challenge. Unlike most girls who would cave in at the pressure, Anne liked challenges that tested her wit.

Thomas Boleyn smiled as he saw her expression.

"Good," he said, dipping his quill into the ink pot as he reached for another sheet of parchment. "I knew you would not resist a challenge! Who knows? Perhaps you will be wedded and bedded to James Butler by the end of the week and the next Countess of Ormond by the month's end."  
_

Washed and dressed in a French cut red dress embroidered with flowers from golden thread accompanied by her favourite piece of jewellery – a necklace strung with pearls with the letter 'B' forged from pure gold with three hanging droplets of pearls – and her lustrous black hair covered by a pearl-adorned French hood.

She had wanted to wear her golden circlet but her father insisted for her to wear a French hood as she lacked an English gable hood to please the devout Queen.

"You look lovely," said George, appearing at the door. "A beautiful English rose."

"That does not suit me at all!" said Anne, with a small frown. "Mary is the beautiful English rose. I will not be a plain rose in a garden of roses! I will be _the_ rose!" With that, she removed her French hood, her hair tumbling down. Defiantly, Anne reached for her golden circlet and placed it carefully on her head and smiled at herself in front of the mirror.

"I hope you don't anger Father," said George uneasily. "He will not be pleased. Anyway, we must go to the feasting hall. A late arrival won't do anyone favours."

Anne smiled beguilingly and held out her hand. "Then we shall go," she said sweetly.

George nodded and took her hand. "It will soon be James Butler escorting you to feasts," he remarked as they descended the stairs towards the chatter and faint music. "Will you charm the Butlers with your wit tonight so I will have the honour of calling you my Lady Ormond soon?"

"What about you? Mary hinted in her letters that Father betrothed you to a…Mistress Jane Parker? Do you like the lady?"

George shuddered. "She is a shrew! An utter shrew! You will meet her tomorrow if you join the Queen's household. Come! We must hurry! The feast will begin in a minute or two!"

Anne hitched up her skirt a little and sped up to the feasting hall. She gasped softly as she saw the lavish decorations in the feasting hall upon entry. Before she had a chance to look around, Mary walked up to her in a cream-coloured gown and matching hood, a grin on her face.

"You'll sit beside me," she said excitedly. "I cannot wait to hear of your last few days in France! George will sit over there with my husband." She nodded to a table of male courtiers a foot away from the ladies' table. "The royal family will arrive shortly," she added.

Anne quickly followed Mary to their seats and she instantly recognised her cousins, the Sheltons, and her childhood friend, Margaret Wyatt.

"Margaret?" said Anne, happy to see another familiar face.

"Well!" said Margaret Wyatt, amazed at the physical change in Anne's appearance (she hadn't seen her in many years). "Little Nannette Boleyn? Is it really you?!"

Anne nodded. "I've finally returned. It is good to see you again!"

"I have not seen you in years! I thought your father married you off to a French baron!"

Anne laughed. "Oh Margaret! My father would not dare marry me off to a mere baron! He'd rather eat a raw lemon than marry me to a baron! He knows I have the full potential to be a countess or even a duchess, not a French baroness!"

"That is brilliant," said Margaret admiringly. "You will be an excellent duchess. I can imagine you in a gown of mauve with a matching hat...I'm certain you will marry well."

Before Anne could reply, the royal heralds blew their trumpets and everyone stood up as the royal party

walked gracefully through the great mahogany doors to take their places at the high table.

At the King's nod, everyone sat down and the feast began.

Thomas Boleyn appeared at Anne's side before she could even nibble a slice of pigeon pie or sip English ale from her goblet.

"Their Majesties are ready to see you now," he said shortly.

Anne stood up again and walked with him to the high table. She curtsied deeply and heard her father say, "Your Majesties, this is my younger daughter I have been telling you about. She has just arrived from France today and been anxious to meet you. Anne, may I present His Majesty the King, and Her Majesty, Queen Catherine?"

Anne rose and looked at her sovereign and his consort properly for the first time in many years. Smiling at her was King Arthur. Tall, slender with almost an ethereal like skin colour and features, he looked at her with his clear blue eyes in interest as he gestured for her to rise, his thin, pale fingers only bedecked with two rings. Beside him with a kindly smile was his Spanish wife, Queen Catherine. Equally tall with slightly greying hair and in a gown of dark purple, she was indeed a regal sight.

At a rapid glance at the other members of the high table, Anne caught sight of her old mistress, the Dowager Queen of France – now Duchess of Suffolk – in a beautiful gown of green with a silver diadem on her mass of fiery red hair. The Duchess nodded at her with a smile of recognition.

"Mistress Anne," said the King benevolently. "Your father sang many praises about you while you were still in France. Are you pleased to be back home in England?"

"Greatly, Your Majesty," Anne replied smoothly. "When my sister Mistress Carey, was summoned back to England, I mourned as I was not chosen to return home to glorious England. The French court was brilliant, but when I first arrived in Hampton Court, I knew the English court is much more magnificent than that of France and I thanked God that my path lies in serving Your Gracious Majesties."

The King nodded, greatly pleased and turned to the smiling Queen. "My dear, would you like to say a word or two to Mistress Anne?"

"What are your plans, Mistress Anne?" said the Queen politely. "Will you wed Sir Piers Butler's heir and live with him in Ireland?"

The King grimaced. "Do not remind me of the Ormond dispute."

"I apologise for that, my lord," spoke Boleyn, with another bow. "However, you will be pleased to know that there will no longer be a quarrel about the Ormond earldom and the Butlers and I are now allies and ready to embrace each other as family."

The King nodded and said gratefully, "That is a relief, Sir Thomas! The last thing I wish for is more Irish family feuds over lands and titles. You are indeed loyal to the crown and I look forward in investing you with the earldom of Wiltshire tomorrow. I am quite pleased you have proven to be the more honourable man by relinquishing your claim to the Ormond earldom. Mistress Anne, you should be thankful you have such a faithful, dedicated and honourable father."

"I am, my lord King," answered Anne.

With an approved nod, the King looked intently at her father again. "Is there anything you wish for?" he inquired. "More land, permission for your son's marriage to a noblewoman?"

"As you know, Your Majesty, I care deeply for my family," Boleyn began. "You yourself, are a devoted father and uncle, and you must know how much a father like myself can love my children to such a great extent. My George is a page in your household, and Mistress Carey is one of Her Majesty's ladies-in-waiting, while Anne is not-"

"Do not fear, Sir Thomas," interrupted the Queen, glancing at Anne. "Mistress Anne will take her place tomorrow in my household as one of my maids-of-honour. Mistress Carey can inform her of her duties and attire between tonight and tomorrow and I expect Mistress Anne to be prepared for the day after tomorrow. I understand she will wish to participate in your family celebrations with Mistress Carey and the Sheltons tomorrow afternoon, and I am willing to give her tomorrow afternoon off. As one of my maids, I expect Mistress Anne to be ready tomorrow morning at dawn to attend Mass with me, and we will break our fast together after it."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," said Anne, curtsying to her. "I will be honoured to serve you and I am extremely grateful you have decided to accept me as one of you maids-of-honour." She waited a few seconds until the Queen nodded before she continued, "I promise on the Almighty I will continue serving you even after I wed James Butler."

"That is kind of you to say so, Mistress Anne. I hope you can present us with a song when you settle in your chambers and my household."

"I will be delighted to, Your Majesty."

The Queen smiled. "Excellent. I believe you remember Her Grace, the Duchess of Suffolk? She recommended you quite highly for my household. Next to her is my youngest sister-in-law, the Princess Katherine Tudor and my brothers-in-law, the Dukes of York and Somerset." Anne curtsied in turn to each prince and princess who nodded back at her.

"You may return to your place," the Queen informed her. "It will be in your best interest to ask Mistress Carey of your future duties."

Anne nodded vigorously. "I will, Your Majesty! I will!" She bobbed a final curtsey and returned gracefully to her seat beside Mary.

"The Queen accepted you as a maid-of-honour?" said Mary hopefully.

"Yes!" Anne confirmed joyfully. "She seems pleased with me."

"That is brilliant! Father must be so delighted! It will be so exciting serving the Queen together! I must warn you, Mass is always the dullest part of the day. The Queen will pray for hours upon end, and some of the ladies sleep through it."

Anne frowned a little. "I certainly will not sleep while the Queen prays! In France, Queen Claude was a devout woman, and she prayed for hours each day. I think I am used to religious queens and waiting patiently during Mass."

"Hmm. That is good! Have you seen the Duke of York yet?"

"The Queen introduced him to me, but I was too nervous to take a good look. Why?"

"Does he not look handsome to you?" Mary sighed dramatically. "He looks so sad! His wife just died last month from Sweating Sickness along with their young son and now he only has a daughter to remember the Duchess of York by!"

"What?" said Anne, interested. "Why do I not know this?"

"I didn't think you would've wanted me to write about it to you in our letters." Mary shrugged as Anne hissed softly with frustration at missing out such an important piece of court news.

"Besides, you were packing," added Margaret Wyatt. "The letter could arrive next week. What you must know, is that the Duke of York had been married to Princess Anne d'Alençon as a clause for the King's peace treaty with France and they were happy as husband and wife. The Duchess gave her husband a lovely daughter – Lady Margaret of York – and a son – Lord Henry of York – before she caught Sweating Sickness and died with her son. The Duke was desolate! It was quite uncharacteristic of him, but he is still in deep mourning."

"He has another son," said Anne's cousin, Madge Shelton helpfully. "Illegitimate of course. He slept with other women, the most notorious being Bessie Blount, now Baron Tailboys' wife. It was quite a scandal when the Duke acknowledged the child as his own! The King wouldn't speak to his brother for days! The late Duchess was _devastated_ as she had only given birth to little Lord Henry a week earlier! Would it surprise you if I told you the Duke named his bastard 'Henry'?"

Anne shook her head, more fascinated than ever. "Henry Fitzroy?"

"Henry FitzTudor! The King refuses to give him the last name 'Fitzroy' and told the Duke that he should be grateful he acknowledges the boy as a FitzTudor and not a FitzBlount or something. The day FitzTudor was christened, the King was so sullen! He'd never been that brooding before!"

The ladies ate for a while before the King decided it was time to dance.

Gallantly, George saved Anne from finding a dance partner by leading her gracefully into the first Galliard instead of dancing with Jane Parker.

"I thought you needed a dancing partner," said George, grinning at her.

"I did," Anne admitted. "Mary is married and all our other friends have admirers or husbands they can dance with while I only knew you."

"You should know more people, dear Anne! I cannot dance solely with you every night! There are plenty of other ladies waiting for me to dance with them." He boldly paused in the middle of a dance step and winked roguishly at nearby ladies who blushed as pink as strawberries. "You see," George continued, twirling Anne around. "I am such a charming gentleman and no woman can resist my charms, I doubt even the princesses can!"

Anne gasped at his boldness. "George!"

"Mistress Anne," said a voice behind them. "Mistress Anne Boleyn?"

Anne stopped and looked at the speaker. A grin spread on her face as she recognised him as Lord Henry Percy, son and heir of the 5th Earl of Northumberland.

"Lord Percy!" she said, even more delighted to distinguish another familiar face. "What a surprise and pleasure to see you again!"

"George," said Lord Percy, smiling widely at George Boleyn. "May I have the honour of dancing with your sister, Mistress Anne?"

George gave Anne another smile and found himself another dance partner while Lord Percy grasped Anne's hands and began the next dance.

"Did you miss me?" said Anne rather seductively.

Lord Percy chuckled as he spun her around.

"Of course," he said, mesmerised by her long black hair and charismatic charm. "Every day I spent in England after seeing you in France, I wished I was at your side. My father did not like you or your family, and threatened to have me disinherited if I kept thinking about you instead of Mary Talbot! Don't worry, dear Anne. You will always have a place in my heart."

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**Characters may be a little OOC at the moment, but they will get more in character hopefully in the next chapter :) There will be more introductions to the other members of the royal family in the next few chapters too when Anne settles in :D **


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter II

**February, 1522**

"I've noticed you spent quite some time with Lord Percy," noted Sir Thomas Boleyn. "He seems to be quite taken with you."

"We are friends, my lord," answered Anne. "Nothing more."

"Hmmph. I do not know whether to be impressed by your charm on noblemen or disappointed. You should be charming the Butlers, not Lord Percy, but it will be excellent if Lord Percy proposes marriage to you. The Percys are a highly influential family and it will be marvellous if a Boleyn girl becomes future Countess of Northumberland."

"I thought you want me to marry Sir James Butler to heal the Ormond dilemma between our family and the Butler clan."

"I'm reconsidering it."

Anne arched an eyebrow. "You do not approve of Sir James as a potential son-in-law?"

"Not particularly," said her father mildly. "It does not seem to have an advantage for me. You would be Countess of Ormond, but only after the death of your future father-in-law. If I happen to be granted the earldom of Ormond, your dowry will increase and George can inherit two earldoms. Before you arrived in England, I thought an Ormond match would suit you, but after last night's feast...I realised you have more potential to marry well."

"Lord Percy is heir to an earldom. There are not many dukes – or their heirs – that approve of the thought of wedding me."

"Politically no, but for love..."

Anne stared at him in astonishment. For as long as she lived, she had never heard her father say the mere word of 'love' without spite or disgust. "You...you want me to fall in love with a duke?" she said, swallowing her shock.

"Of course not!" said Boleyn dismissively. "I want you to charm the most powerful men in England until they dance to your tune! Of course by that, I mean the King and his brothers."

Confusion, horror and bewilderment swarmed in Anne's mind as she understood the task he just handed her. If it wasn't impossible, it would be considered treasonous.

"I must go," said Anne hurriedly. "The Queen is expecting me."

"Of course," said Boleyn, returning to his papers. "Run to her like a loyal puppy. Wouldn't it be amusing if Fortuna blesses us and you become queen? You can have Catherine of Aragon run to you instead!" He chuckled to himself.

Horrified, Anne slipped out of her father's chambers and walked quickly down a corridor, her heart pounding wildly. After turning a few corners, she slowed down and realised she was lost. She noticed a slightly ajar door and peeped in.

There was an enormous roaring fire – a larger fireplace than the one in her chambers and the one in her father's apartments – and in front of it sat three children. The first was a young boy of about eleven years old with copper red hair, his blue eyes rapidly scanning the words on the page of a large book on the floor in front of him. Beside him were two girls (six and four years old?), the elder with glossy auburn hair and the younger with beautiful ringlets of golden hair and a sweet doll-like face.

"Mistress Anne Boleyn!"

Anne spun around and ducked into a curtsey as she came face to face with Princess Katherine.

"Your Highness," she murmured.

"Mistress Anne," the Princess acknowledged, her clear blue eyes darting suspiciously between Anne and the door. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be attending the Queen in her chambers at this time? I understand she gave you time off for this afternoon, but you should not test her patience by avoiding to serve her and spying on her children right now."

"Your Highness! I would never betray the Queen, especially as I am her new maid! I did not know that was the royal nursery and I got lost trying to find my way to the Queen's chambers."

"I see." The Princess quietly closed the nursery door and gave her a small smile. "It seems I must speak to Their Majesties about the guards. They must be replaced at once! If you are indeed lost, why don't you come with me and perhaps learn your way around the palace? Hampton Court was a liberal gift to the King by Cardinal Wolsey and it happens to be the King's favourite residence alongside Richmond, York Place and Placentia. The King likes staying in one place for a few months before moving."

"Thank you, Your Highness. I am grateful for your assistance."

The Princess nodded and gestured for Anne to rise and walk alongside her. "The Duchess of Suffolk praised you greatly," she remarked. "She still remembers you fondly as her little Nanette and is disappointed you could not join her household. I hope you are indeed the lady the Duchess describes you to be. It will be disheartening if you changed for the worse, Mistress Anne. The Queen will be devastated and the Duchess will be heartbroken."

"I assure you, Your Highness, I have not changed to disappoint the Duchess. I remain a loyal maid and I hope the Queen will appreciate my dedication to her."

The Princess slowed down and looked at her. "I saw you dance and converse with other courtiers last night," she said quietly. "You were quite a sensation – according to the Duke of Suffolk that is. I must say it was bold of you to not to wear a gable hood during your first meeting with the Queen. She usually dislikes those with wantonly attire like Bessie Blount." She glanced at Anne's grey gown and grey French hood with an approving nod.

"I am no Bessie Blount," said Anne steadily. "I will never flounce like a slut in court and I will never give up my virginity for the position of mistress for a few short months. I apologise if I offend you with my words, Your Highness, but it is the truth."

"You intrigue me, Mistress Anne. You are not like other ladies."

Anne smiled at the compliment. "If you do not mind me asking, Your Highness, can you tell me something about the Queen?"

The Princess brightened at the mention of the Queen. "She is like a mother to me," she said, her eyes shining with praise at her sister-in-law. "At times she is like my older sister, but I consider her more like my mother. I knew her since I was born and she sang Spanish lullabies to me when I was a child. She is the youngest daughter of King Ferdinand II of Aragon and Queen Isabel I of Castile – the Catholic Monarchs – and one of the most beautiful princesses in all of Christendom. She is talented in languages and musical instruments and is very clever and had many entertaining stories to tell. Of course her marriage with my brother the King, was political, but it turned out to be a love match. Even now they are happily married with their three children."

"The King is happy with only one son?"

The Princess frowned slightly at Anne's sceptical tone. "The King is delighted," she said sternly, yet gently. "Even though he only has one son – His Royal Highness Henry, the Prince of Wales (we call him 'Harry') – the King is extremely proud of him and had often declared that he would not swap his only heir for a dozen bonny sons. Unlike the late King Henry VII, the King loves his family and values all his children greatly rather than just his heir. He suffered the loss of infants with the Queen, but acknowledged that the Queen did her duty by bearing a son, and he is pleased she gave them two daughters – the Princesses Mary and Cecily – who are both healthy and beautiful. Besides, the King is aware that our illustrious house does not require a littler of sons. He has two brothers who are both capable of siring _legitimate_ sons in time. I'm certain that after a duration of mourning, the Duke of York will remarry and have more sons. I cannot imagine him mourning the death of his Duchess for the rest of his life! As for the Duke of Somerset, he is more close in personality like the King, and will marry dutifully and sire heirs. The King is certain the Tudor succession is secure and will never be unhappy that he only has one son."

Anne blushed deeply, inwardly cursing herself for speaking her thoughts. "I apologise again if I had given offence," she said humbly. "I have yet to learn to hold my tongue."

The Princess laughed. "You have nothing to apologise about, Mistress Anne! You only spoke the blunt truth! It is true that most kings will loathe and despise their wives for bearing them so little sons. Our king is different and I believe he has a pure heart of gold."

"You love your brother, Your Highness."

"Well of course! Don't you love your own brother, Mistress Anne? Apparently many ladies of the court are in love with the handsome Master George Boleyn."

Anne smiled. "George is a charmer by nature. If you do not mind me prying, Your Highness, but will you marry a prince and have children of your own? I will envy those ladies who will have the honour of serving you after you wed and leave England. If I was not tasked to serve the Queen, I would long to serve an English princess abroad. Unlike Lady Carey who is content remaining in England, I rather enjoy living abroad and serving good queens."

"I find your questions rather refreshing, Mistress Anne. The Queen worries about my health and implores me not to think too much."

"No one can over think matters, Your Highness."

"Please, call me 'Katherine'. Perhaps you can walk with me in the gardens tomorrow after Mass, and we can have a picnic in my favourite part of the garden."

"That will be lovely, Your Highness – I mean…Katherine."

Katherine beamed and waited for the two solemn guards to open a set of doors. "This is the Queen's chambers," she told Anne. "Perhaps you should come here every day with Lady Carey? The Queen is a forgiving woman, but when it comes to time…she does not like late arrivals."

"Ah, Mistress Anne!" said the Queen pleasantly, noticing Anne and the Princess from her cushioned seat surrounded by a circle of ladies. On cue, all her ladies-in-waiting and maids-of-honour turned and stared at her – including her sister Mary. "I see you finally made it here!" the Queen added, gesturing for her to sit next between Mary and Margaret Wyatt.

"It was Her Highness who aided me, Your Majesty," said Anne truthfully, curtseying to the Queen. "I was foolish enough to not ask Lady Carey or Mistress Margaret Wyatt for directions."

"No matter," said the Queen, nodding at Katherine to sit beside her. "Tell us about the Queen of France, Mistress Anne. I understand you served her for quite some time? My ladies are tired of hearing about England. Perhaps a taste of France would be sufficient, eh?"

* * *

"Lady Anne Boleyn?" A messenger hovered near the door of Thomas Boleyn's – now 1st Earl of Wiltshire – chambers. "I come from the Princess Katherine."

Wiltshire nodded at him and gestured for Anne to listen.

"Her Highness sent me to remind you of your walk with Her Highness in the royal gardens," the messenger reported to her after a polite nod and bow. "She also says if you wish to walk with her, she will meet you in her chambers in five minutes. Will there be a reply?"

"I will go to her at once," decided Anne, grabbing the French hood she had discarded on a pile of papers on her father's desk.

"Very good my lady." The messenger bowed again to her and Wiltshire before leaving. As expected, her father looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

"The Princess Katherine wishes for me to walk with her," Anne informed him.

"I know," said Wiltshire, sighing with exasperation. "I heard the messenger! I see you are befriending members of the royal family already! Excellent! Perhaps with Princess Katherine's help, you will be her sister-in-law within months. As ambassador to France, it is my duty to be concerned with the Tudor succession! The King has two brothers, one widowed with only a daughter and the other unmarried. You are of fertile stock. It will greatly benefit the royal family."

"I wish you would stop plotting, my lord."

"Hmmph. You will thank me for it in the future when you are Duchess of York or even Queen. Your mother told me the Queen also took a fancy to you."

"Yes," said Anne, wishing her mother – Elizabeth Boleyn (née Howard), Countess of Wiltshire – was not in the Queen's service. "If you are aware of this, why did you ask me?"

"Impudence! The Queen asked for you to tell her about the French Queen?"

"Yes, my lord father."

"Was that all?"

"She inquired about my betrothal to Sir James Butler-"

"What did you tell her?"

"I am still betrothed to him, but nothing had occurred in regards to our actual wedding. I told her my dowry and the Ormond earldom were still in discussion and I have yet to meet my betrothed. The Queen then assured me that the King will bless our union and will readily grant us permission to wed. She hinted that for the good of England's relationship with Ireland, her gift to us will be a fine English wedding before I leave for Ireland to celebrate my wedding with Sir James Butler again."

"Hmmph. As long as I do not have to pay extra wedding expenses."

"You should be pleased the King and Queen view my impending marriage with Sir James Butler of great importance that they are encouraging me to celebrate it in England _and _Ireland."

"Or perhaps they wish to do so because they are aware you are my daughter and they view me as a trusted and loyal diplomat."

Of course, Anne thought, adjusting the French hood on her head. You always think everything that occurs is because of your diplomatic efforts. You believe what you want to believe, while I remember the truth of it. In a way, marriage with James Butler is a blessing: I will no longer have to listen to your blunt words or follow your instructions.

"I must go to the Princess Katherine," she said, bobbing a small curtsey.

"Yes," said Wiltshire, his eyes gleaming with thought. "Yes, you must. You cannot keep the Princess waiting, now can you?"

Uneasy, Anne left his chambers and rushed to Katherine's. She had the foresight to discover where the Princess's chambers were the evening before.

"Lady Anne!" said Katherine, a smile on her face when the guard announced her. "I'm so pleased you can come early without getting lost! I was prepared to send a guard to find you if you didn't show up in five minutes or so! You are looking quite lovely today, and I must say, you love wearing French hoods! Some will say you are more French than English!"

Anne laughed and walked with her towards the gardens.

"I do have an attachment to French fashion," she confessed. "I am an Englishwoman at heart, but I have embraced the French fashion sense. I know the Queen does not approve of the French, but why has she not said anything disapproving to me about it?"

"The Queen dislikes the French, but does not hate the fashion," Katherine assured her. "She will only speak disapprovingly at you if you fall asleep during Mass or wear something unseemly. If you wish for her to be cold to you, view Lady Tailboys as an example."

Anne chortled again. She had glimpsed the much-spoken-about Lady Tailboys that very morning and was not surprised the Queen had a natural dislike for her. During Mass, Anne noticed Lady Tailboys chose to wear a rather revealing French-cut gown of bright scarlet – it was so low that her cleavage could be seen – with her blonde hair left out in the most unseemly fashion. Anne wondered why the Queen decided to keep Lady Tailboys in her service even though she disliked her.

"The Queen keeps her for the affection she holds for her brother-in-law, the Duke of York," said Katherine, as if reading her mind. "The Queen loves all of us as if we were her siblings by blood. She knows the Duke had already lost interest in Lady Tailboys and would not provide for her if she dismisses her from her household. No one else will want Lady Tailboys in their households."

"Especially Her Grace, the Duchess of Suffolk," said Anne softly, remembering her kind-hearted former mistress. "She will not accept her."

Katherine nodded in agreement. "She already loathes her ladies that slept with her husband. She will fly into rage if the Queen asks her to accept Lady Tailboys as a lady-in-waiting! It was also the Queen who convinced the King to allow Lady Tailboys to marry Lord Tailboys. If it was up to the King, he would've sent the said lady to a nunnery and her child into a monastery. The Duke is grateful to the Queen and treats her as one of his favourite sisters. Lady Tailboys on the other hand…" Her voice trailed off.

"She should thank the Queen for her kindness."

"Indeed. However, she is infested by pride. She will never thank the Queen."

"If I was Queen, I would've banished her from court and ensured she never married and saw her child again." Anne gasped in horror at her own words.

Katherine paused and said thoughtfully, "I see. What an interesting queen you would've made! I wonder what I would do if I was in that situation. I would not have acted as rashly as you would've, nor as kind-heartedly as Catherine was."

"You will make an excellent queen," said Anne weakly. "You have no ounce of jealousy, disdain or ambition in your heart. Whoever marries you will be extremely fortunate. You also had the Queen as an example of absolute goodness." She glanced around at the beds of flowers and said quickly, "Which garden is your favourite? If what you said about Hampton Court being the King's favourite residence, you must've been her quite often."

Katherine brightened at the change of topic. "Over here." She led Anne to a more secluded part of the royal gardens where Anne saw dozens of rows of white roses surrounded by red roses. In the middle of the small meadow was a large oak tree encircled by a neat patch of short green grass. From it in four directions were four paths, segregating each section of white roses bordered with red roses.

"It is beautiful," said Anne truthfully. "One of the most beautiful gardens I had ever seen – including those in France."

"It is my garden," said Katherine softly, tears glistening on her white cheeks. "I always loved gardens since I was a child and the Queen suggested I plant some flowers. Bishop Gardiner's distant cousin – Master Anthony Gardiner – is one of the best royal gardeners and the Queen asked him to teach me how to grow and nurture flowers. Every day, I would spend a good few hours in here, digging, planting, watering and watching. The first flower to grow was a white rose and I decided to dedicate it to my mother who died giving birth to me. It was the white rose that rose first from hours of hard work, and it is only fitting to dedicate my garden to the eldest Yorkist princess of Edward IV of England. Henry laughed at my interest in gardening while Mary refuses to get her hands dirty or her dresses muddy. Edmund often helped me, but he stopped when Henry told him it does not befit a prince to do gardening. Margaret and Elizabeth are both married and away from England. Nowadays, I tend to this garden myself."

Anne handed her a clean handkerchief. "Katherine, your lady mother will be so pleased at your hard work in the garden. This is indeed a blessed garden."

Katherine cracked a smile. "Thank you, Anne."

"Anne! Is that you?!"

"Who is that?" asked Katherine, as a figure approached them.

"My brother George," said Anne, recognising him at once. "He is now Viscount Rochford. I wonder what he is doing here!"

George stopped in his tracks and bowed deeply to Katherine. "Your Highness," he said charmingly. "I did not expect to see you here at such a time!"

"Really, Lord Rochford?" said Katherine dryly.

He caught sight of her tears. "Your Highness..." he said softly. "Why are there beautiful pearls running down your smooth, pale cheeks from your eyes as blue as perfect sapphires?"

Anne almost groaned at her brother's words.

Katherine frowned at him. "What do you mean, Lord Rochford?"

"You are a shining jewel, Your Highness," said George smoothly. "Even your tears are pearls – the most beautiful I have ever seen."

"George!" Anne hissed under her breath.

"No, no, do not worry," said Katherine, looking at George with a firmly blank expression. "Lord Rochford, are you attempting to charm me like how you charm all the other ladies of the court? May I remind you how it may be considered treasonous by some?"

"I speak nothing but the truth," replied George wittily. "It is true you are a beautiful woman, Your Highness, and it is also true you radiate of kindness and exquisiteness."

"And is it also true my tears are pearls?"

"Well...the royal jewellery makers will weep rivers of tears when they see the beautiful pearls on your cheeks." He smiled at her. "What caused the creation of these pearls?"

"George!" Anne whispered sharply again.

"You are not afraid of speaking delicate subjects," said Katherine, smiling back at George. "You will make an excellent ambassador for England."

"That is my plan," answered George. "My father is an ambassador and I intend to follow in his footsteps and be a diplomat for England too."

"You will be a successful ambassador. I know you will. Perhaps you should go to France and convince the French to sign another peace treaty with England? The King will greatly appreciate it. He is satisfied with his alliance with Spain. It is France that worries him. Every time an alliance with France is signed and sealed through marriage, disaster strikes a few months – or years – later. Perhaps if you negotiate with the King of France, our kingdoms will not be cursed to be allies."

"Are you certain that is a good idea, Your Highness?" Uneasiness entered his voice.

"Of course!" A twinkle appeared in Katherine's eyes. "The King is always eager to be a peace maker abroad and desires to have France as an ally."

"If all the past alliances have failed-"

"They were arranged by old men who have no wit. Anne, tell your brother about how you were acquainted with the French King's sister, Marguerite. Perhaps Lord Rochford here can develop ideas about how to flatter the French King for England's benefit."

"You are quite clever, Your Highness!" George looked at Katherine with admiration. "Ah! I see you no longer have pearls on your cheeks! The jewellery makers will still weep in despair."

An hour or two later, the Boleyns parted ways from Katherine.

"I cannot believe you got away with it," said Anne, shaking her head. "If it was any other princess...you would've been thrown into the Tower and executed!"

"I thought she would spurn me from her sight the moment I began talking to her," said George, his mind occupied with the rather attractive Princess Katherine. "I guess not though. Do you think she fell for my ah...manly charms?"

Anne rolled her eyes. "You better hope Father's spies didn't catch that," she warned darkly. "If they did, you might find yourself forced to enthral her on the path of marriage for Father's ends...who knows? It might lead you to a nice place in the Tower..."

* * *

**Oh yes, I forgot to mention in the last chapter that all of Henry VII and Elizabeth of York's children survived. In order of birth: King Arthur I of England (1486), married to Catherine of Aragon; Margaret Tudor (1489), married to King James IV of Scots; Henry Tudor, Duke of York (1491), married - now widower of - to Princess Anne d'Alençon; Elizabeth Tudor (1492), married to John III, Duke of Cleves; Mary Tudor (1496), married firsty King Louis XII of France and now to Charles Brandon, 1st Duke of Suffolk; Edmund Tudor, Duke of Somerset (1499) and Katherine Tudor (1503).**

**Ask questions about their marriages, offspring or anything if you wish, but your answers will come in the following chapters when more is revealed about them :) **


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter III

**March, 1522 **

The King and Queen dined quietly with the Dukes of York and Somerset at another family supper with the Duchess of Suffolk and Princess Katherine.

"How are you feeling, Henry?" said Catherine politely.

"Fine, I suppose," said Henry with a shrug. "Anne had always been frail and it was a miracle she survived so long in the English winter. I miss her soothing voice and our visits together to the nursery every evening. Little Meg misses her too. She always asks me where her mamma is. I cannot bear to tell her the truth that her mother died."

Catherine nodded sympathetically. She too had lost many children in her numerous pregnancies and was delighted in the glowing health of her three surviving children. "If there is anything you need, only ask," she said kindly, as she was genuinely fond of her usually cheerful brother-in-law and loved her niece who was the same age as her own Mary.

"Really?" said Henry, perking up.

Arthur laughed and nodded warmly. "You are my brother after all."

"Well…" said Henry thoughtfully. "There is one matter I had often wished to discuss with you, but never had the chance to…"

"Oh?" Arthur was faintly amused as he thought of paying off Henry's mountain of debts again, or choosing another respectable knight to marry one of Henry's discarded mistresses. "We are both here and I am ready to listen."

"My son died with Anne and I only have a daughter. However, I still have my Hal."

Arthur flinched at the mention of Henry's illegitimate son.

"I know he cannot be part of the line of succession even if he is legitimised," continued Henry in an unusually humble manner. "I also know you won't issue a letters patent stating the possibility of Hal succeeding me as the duke of York either due to family pride and honour. However, I have already acknowledged him as my son and he shares a nursery with Meg. It is my desire for him to bear the last name 'Fitzroy' and be given a peerage. Furthermore, I am aware of your plans for Meg to be educated alongside Mary and Cecily, and I wonder if it is possible for Hal to be taught with them? He is not legitimate, yet he is still my son."

Everyone stopped eating and every eye was on Arthur.

"No," muttered Arthur, not able to meet Henry in the eye. "Absolutely not. It will not be received well at court and I do not give peerages for the sake of it. Only those who earn it through loyal services to the crown receive it. I will be perfectly happy giving your future legitimate sons titles upon their marriages, but not Hal! I already acknowledged him as my nephew and part of the family, but what more do you want me to do?! For your sake, I will give him the honorary title of 'Lord', but that's as far as it goes! 'Fitzroy' is reserved for the illegitimate sons of kings, not dukes! Unless you've married Bessie Blount in secret, there is nothing I can do."

"Arthur!" exclaimed the Duchess of Suffolk, horrified. "You cannot say that! What has the boy possibly done to offend you?! If it is the mother you dislike, you should've punished her by sending her to the nunnery, or you can banish her from court!"

Henry gave her a grateful look.

"You shouldn't deny the boy a fine education because of his illegitimacy either," added Catherine, who loved all her nieces and nephews and could not bear to see little Hal suffer in the future because he was born a bastard. "At times, bastards are the most loyal to the King."

"Or their greatest enemies," muttered Arthur, thinking of Pedro I of Castile – one of his and Catherine's ancestors – who was murdered and usurped by his bastard half-brother, the future Enrique II of Castile.

Catherine shot him a 'we'll talk about that later' look.

"Henry should've resisted the temptations of sleeping with other women," said Edmund flatly, who like Arthur, loathed the idea of being unfaithful even though he did not have a wife yet. "Mistresses are often demanding and then they have children of dubious lineage."

Henry glared at him. "It is my right to have mistresses and bastards!"

"Father resisted," said Arthur mildly. "It is indeed within a man's right to take mistresses, but it is not a

requirement. Courtiers throw their daughters at me but I still remain – and always will be – faithful to my dear Catherine. However, you seem to have inherited our grandfather Edward IV's need for mistresses and unusually ample sexual appetite. It seems Catherine and Mary are on your side while Edmund is on mine. What about you, Katherine? You have been very quiet."

Katherine daintily wiped her mouth with a handkerchief before murmuring, "Hal will already be tormented in his whole life for being the bastard nephew of a King. him as your trueborn nephew and he will retain loyalty to you for life. Treat him as you will treat any of our nieces and nephews. Henry loves his son and knows it was wrong of him to conceive Hal with Bessie while the late Duchess of York was pregnant with his legitimate son at the same time. Henry is aware of his mistakes and wants nothing more than to love Hal and secure his future."

The other royal ladies nodded in agreement.

"Father would not approve of it," Edmund warned Arthur.

Arthur's expression hardened and he said coldly, "I am not our father. He only loved his mother and for the sake of politics, sent Margaret to Scotland for an Anglo-Scottish alliance. I tried to follow his lead and regrettably married our dear, sweet sister Elizabeth, to the Duke of Cleves quite heartlessly. I promised myself I would never do that again."

"What about my marriage to that old French king?" the Duchess challenged. "You could've married Henry or Edmund to Princess Renée of France, but _no_, you sent me there instead, and the whole time, you knew I loved Charles!"

"Princesses do not marry commoners-"

"And princes do? No! You were following the wishes of Wolsey!"

"Enough!" snapped Arthur, his temper rising for the first time in years. "You know as well as I do that our marriages are political for England's benefit! You should be thankful that I acknowledge you as a royal princess of the blood despite your marriage to Suffolk! Henry! This is my proposition: Hal receives a royal education alongside my daughters and your Meg and will be addressed as 'Lord Henry FitzTudor' until his eighteenth birthday when an earldom is bestowed upon him and I will also take it upon myself to find Hal a suitable bride of noble breeding!"

Henry nodded. "Thank you, brother."

They ate in silence for another few minutes before Katherine spoke up timidly, "Catherine, how do you find your newest maid?"

"Lady Anne is a delightful woman," said Catherine to the Duchess of Suffolk's pleasure. "She speaks French as well as if she was born a Frenchwoman! Her letters are flawless and she is one of my few ladies who has the patience to pray with me throughout Mass every morning. It is astonishing how she can possibly be the younger sister of Lady Carey!"

"I have always been fond of Lady Anne," said the Duchess wistfully. "She is a daughter any father would be proud of. Did she end up marrying Sir James Butler? Honestly, I thought she would have made a grander match. I will miss her if she leaves court for Ireland."

"Fortunately, not yet. It seems Wiltshire and Butler are at odds again. Wiltshire still covets the earldom for himself and has apparently suggested the marriage of Butler's eldest legitimate daughter Margaret, to his son George instead! Wiltshire must want Anne to marry extremely well, and an Irish Earl will not do for his clever daughter." Catherine smiled. "Her French is quite impeccable. I wonder if she will agree to teach French to the children."

"Her father will be appalled at that!"

"It isn't Wiltshire's decision," commented Arthur, who liked the idea of Anne Boleyn teaching his children, nieces and nephews French. "He should consider it an honour for his daughter to be a French instructor for the royal children. It will be quite ideal for Harry to speak French perfectly when his lovely French bride arrives."

Catherine stared at him with surprise. "_Another _French alliance?"

"The last few have ended in death," answered Arthur. "Mary married Louis XII and he died. Henry wedded Anne d'Alençon and she soon died. France has always been England's greatest enemy, and I want eternal peace between France and England. King Francis's eldest daughter – Princess Charlotte – is often said to be one of his most beautiful daughters with a sweet and generous nature. If King Francis agrees, our Harry will marry his Charlotte for the good of peace. I would have liked to see our Mary or Cecily as the next Queen of France, but I have other ideas for them. Apart from France, another powerful nation is the Holy Roman Empire. As the Emperor – also the King of Spain – is your nephew, I thought it would be a good idea to renew the Spanish alliance through marriage between the Emperor and our Mary. I hope you will not object to that, Catherine?"

Catherine shook her head with a smile. "Not at all."

"Excellent. As for Cecily, I wish for her to marry the King of Scots. It isn't a grand a match as that of Mary and the Emperor or Harry and Princess Charlotte of France, but the Northern lords have reported frequent raids from bold Scotsmen."

"I see. Betrothals are often broken."

Arthur nodded. "I am well aware of that."

"Perhaps we talked enough of politics?" suggested Katherine. "I'd like to go for a walk in the gardens before I retire to my chambers."

"Very well," said Arthur, standing up. "Edmund, please accompany Katherine and ensure you are at her side throughout the walk."

Edmund rolled his eyes at Arthur's overprotective nature but obligingly stood up and offered Katherine his hand. "I will protect you, my lady," he said to her in a joking manner, reminiscing his childhood games of chivalry with his brothers and sisters. He looked at Arthur. "Out of interest, when I marry, who will protect Katherine in her daily walks in the gardens?"

* * *

Katherine visibly brightened as she saw the Boleyns walk towards her and Edmund in her favourite garden where she met Lord Rochford for the first time while strolling with Lady Anne.

The Boleyn women – Lady Carey and Lady Anne – sunk into curtsies while George gallantly swept a bow as they murmured, "Your Highnesses," when they came close to Katherine and Edmund.

"Please rise," said Katherine, happy to see Lord Rochford with his sisters. "What a surprise to see you here at such a time!"

"We are here to see you, my lady princess," said Rochford cleverly. "Your beauty is so radiant and warms everyone. As the sun has refused to show its face, I've decided the lovely Princess Katherine can fulfil the cowardly sun's role and shine light at us again!"

Katherine blushed. "Oh, Lord Rochford! You jest!"

Edmund raised an eyebrow. Before he could speak, Anne chirped, "It is also said the sun shies away from Ireland! As my fate is to be wife of an Irishman, it would be wise for me to stand close to the sun before embracing a life without the sun."

"I doubt the sun does not shine in Ireland," said Edmund flatly.

Anne's mysterious eyes widened. "My lord prince! Did I offend you? If I did, please accept my pardon! My father always said my wit gets me in trouble."

"No, no," said Edmund hastily, silently cursing himself for his sulky behaviour. "You didn't offend me, Lady Anne. You are still betrothed to Sir James Butler?"

The wind played with Anne's long dark hair as she spoke, "Of course! The Ormond dispute is still unresolved. I played my part but my father refuses to play his. He had the opportunity to end the feud between our great families, but he would not! I do not see how such a petty matter should interest either of Your Highnesses."

"I heard you are a well-informed young woman, Lady Anne."

"Oh am I? What would Your Highness like to know?"

"Hmm. Perhaps more about yourself, Lady Anne? My brother, the Duke of York, knows stories of almost all the women here in court, except you."

"Should I not tell the Duke of York my life instead?"

Edmund laughed a little. "Please no! The last thing I want is another day with my older smug-faced brother! What are your interests, my lady?"

"My interests?" Anne thought for a while and smiled. "Of course I find interest in serving Her Majesty and conversing with other ladies here, but I like reading books – politics, history, French, art, hunting and even religion – and discussing about them with George. Hunting is another favourite pastime, as is falconry, card games and listening to poetry. Sir Thomas Wyatt is a good friend of mine and talented at writing poems. Have you heard one of his before?"

"What about riding?" Edmund wished to speak more to the fascinating lady in front of him and was more than intrigued about her. "Are you a fair rider?"

"Anne is more than a fair rider Your Highness," snorted Rochford. "She would force her poor horse to gallop for hours until she is satisfied!" He laughed as Anne glared at him.

"Really?" said Edmund, laughing with George. "I see you are indeed a persevering lady! What do you say to horse riding tomorrow morning after we break our fast? If it happens to rain, I will summon you for a round of cards in my chambers. We can double! Katherine, you can take Lord Rochford as a partner and we can play together!"

Katherine wrinkled her nose. "I do not like card games."

"Oh, come, my lady princess!" said George jovially. "I do not like your frown and I can change it into a smile! I'm certain I can change your mind about card games! Do not fear, my lady." He winked rather boldly at her. "With me at your side, you will never lose a gamble."

* * *

"You look quite flustered," Henry noted as he saw Katherine sit in front of the fireplace and busy herself with embroidery. "I hope you didn't run."

Katherine pouted. "When were you as overprotective as Arthur?"

"Arthur is praying with Catherine at the moment. Shouldn't you be in the royal chapel with them? I thought you go there every day."

"I do not feel like praying today."

Henry snorted. "Don't let Catherine hear that!"

Katherine laughed, pleased her brother was more his jolly self. "Are you pleased Arthur relented about Hal?" she asked carefully.

Henry scowled. "He reminds me too much of our father. I thought he would've changed more with Catherine as his wife. England wants – no, _needs_ – a merry king, not another miser like our father! It won't be long before the people revolt against Arthur and it will be war again! Arthur was born to be a cardinal or archbishop, not a king!"

Katherine smiled. She heard his rant before and wasn't surprised he decided to rant again.

"I was born to be king!" muttered Henry, jabbing his quill into his parchment with such ferocity that he stabbed a hole into the page. "I wouldn't stop at a single son! If I am king, I wouldn't be satisfied until the nursery is filled with a dozen sons!"

"Are you writing a letter to Arthur?"

"No, Buckingham. I'm asking him advice how to proceed. Edmund is too serious like Arthur and will never think to plan against him. Dear sister, you have always been close to me. Do you agree I will make a better king than Arthur?"

Katherine looked at him and said seriously, "You should not plot against him, Henry. If he discovers it, he will not be merciful. He is a kind and gentle king, but when it comes to treason, he will not think twice of executing traitors – including family. Don't you remember one of our de la Pole cousins? He was executed a traitor's way: hung, drawn and quartered. What will our blessed mother say if your entrails hang on stakes all over London?!"

"Arthur would not do that to me! Besides, with Buckingham, Suffolk and other powerful lords on my side, I would succeed-"

"No. It is God's will for Arthur to be king, and king he will remain till his death. If the Almighty wanted you as king, why did he spare Arthur from death of Sweating Sickness all those many years ago? Don't think rashly, Henry. Besides, Catherine is on your side. She will convince Arthur to give Hal a dukedom when he is in a better mood. Edmund really shouldn't have compared him to father…"

"How was your walk? Did you meet any new ladies?"

"I met Lady Anne Boleyn and her siblings, Lady Carey and Viscount Rochford," said Katherine, pleased to

change the subject. "Lord Rochford was quite witty and called me his 'radiant sun' and entertained me

with stories of his youth. Lady Anne was very pleasant and spoke eloquently about her interests and passions – mostly to Edmund."

"Oh? Describe her."

"Lady Anne? She is tall, slim, attractive – not beautiful like her sister Lady Carey, but enchanting in her own way – with lustrous dark hair and the most enticing dark eyes! She sounds like a nightingale but speaks as well as any of Arthur's councillors!"

"Really now?" Henry looked at her intently with interest. "What an intriguing woman! What about Lady Carey? I heard she was the King of France's English mare." He snorted as Katherine glared at him, shaking her head disapprovingly.

"I wish you wouldn't repeat those rumours," she sighed.

Henry snickered. "She must be quite beautiful or the French King has no taste."

Katherine's frown deepened. "If you must know, Lady Carey has more beauty than wit – quite the opposite of Lady Anne – and is a married woman. Unlike the Lady Anne who has dark hair, she has fair hair – more flaxen than that Seymour girl in the Queen's household – and apparently a sweet nature according to Lord Rochford."

"I see. What do you think of Lord Rochford?"

"Arrogant, a little bold in his words and an asset to England. I have encouraged him to go and charm the King of France for Arthur's peace treaty."

"Yes, Rochford is an excellent sportsman. I plan to play a game of tennis with him when the sun smiles at us again. You should watch! It will do you some good to bathe in sunlight. Have you spoken to him before?"

"Yes, once. It was quite some time ago, but I was walking with Lady Anne and he joined us in my garden. His wit is indeed valuable for Arthur's diplomacy."

Henry raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Is that all you think of him? A useful puppeteer to guide France into signing another treaty with England?"

Katherine felt her cheeks grow warm. "Yes."

Henry snorted again. "Oh please, little sister! I can tell when a woman is in love – usually in the case when women are infatuated with me – and you have it all over your face! It seems Rochford has charmed you after all!"

"Henry! He's a friend, nothing more-"

"Oh, he's a friend now, is he? When will he propose marriage to you? You are of age to marry and wouldn't you rather marry the man you love than a foreign prince? You have the opportunity to free yourself from being Arthur's pawn! Use it! You have already fallen in love with Rochford, so why not pursue it? A few more meetings, you will be head-over-heels in love with him! Then what? He will be married to a Butler and you will be carted off to another kingdom as the sacrificial lamb for peace! Is it worth it?! You will die still harbouring love towards Rochford! I was a young fool when I married Anne d'Alençon. I had the chance to marry any woman I love, but I found myself chained intro matrimony with the weak Anne. I loved her – I truly did – but I'm sure you can understand how a strong man like me requires a robust wife. If you happen to love any nobleman, I will stand by you the whole way. I promise."

Katherine smiled at him. "Thank you. What if I decide to marry a prince?"

"I will threaten him to love you or there will be severe consequences."

Katherine laughed as the 'old Harry' returned. She loved it when bits of his childhood self returned at spurs of the moment. She still loved him as a sister should, but she knew deep inside something was different about him – something troubling.

"You will always be my knight in shining armour," she said, patting his hand affectionately. "Have you considered remarrying?"

"Of course," muttered Henry, glancing at a small stack of papers on his table beside his goblet of red wine. "I need_ legitimate_ sons and Meg needs a mother. It is harder choosing a wife than you think. Arthur and Catherine have helpfully sent me a list of eligible princesses and small portraits of them and I've been narrowing them down – by beauty and fertility of course. I cannot marry a Spanish princess as she will not love Meg. Catherine mentioned something about Spaniards as natural enemies of the French. Arthur advises me not to choose another French bride as Harry might wed a French princess. Nowadays, not many princesses are willing to marry me as Arthur has his own son. There aren't any Scottish princesses and I do not wish to marry a princess connected with that Emperor. Catherine recommends her niece, Archduchess Eleanora of Austria (now Queen Dowager of Portugal), but she looks too...foreign." He nodded at a miniature portrait of the tight-lipped, yet attractive Archduchess.

"She has a pleasing expression," Katherine commented. "She also gave her husband two children. I'm certain she will be an excellent mother to Meg."

Henry shook his head adamantly. "She is too Spanish."

"There is something else the matter, isn't there?"

Henry sighed. "Yes. I hated Arthur for sending Mary to France to marry that old king. I was so pleased when she married Charles! He is my best friend and Mary was passionately in love with him! I do not feel well-suited to marrying another princess. I married once to the satisfaction of the state and now I can choose to marry for love. That option I will embrace."

Katherine nodded, fully supportive of his decision to marry for love. "It is Mary's birthday celebrations next week," she said, her eyes shining. "It'll be an excellent time to mingle with the ladies of the court and I'm certain you will find your true love! Is there a particular woman you would like to meet?"

"Not yet," said Henry, suddenly remembering her descriptions of the Boleyn sisters. He reached for his goblet and thought of them again, this time more intently. "Not yet," he said again. "I'm confident the right woman will come along shortly."

* * *

**Some of you may not have liked the small part when Arthur loses his temper, but I wanted to show he isn't always weak-minded, serious and deeply influenced by others and has a streak of Tudor temper in his personality. The masquerade of 'Chateau Vert' is coming up (hint, hint: Anne and Edmund, Anne and Henry or Anne and Henry Percy?)! All ideas welcome! :) **


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter IV

**March, 1522**

Earlier in the month, Henry did not end up finding a potential bride, but opportunity soon arose when the twenty two year old Emperor Charles V came to England.

Naturally an enemy of France, the Emperor was eager for a renewal of an Anglo-Imperial alliance and readily agreed to be betrothed to Arthur's eldest daughter, Princess Mary Tudor. An important clause in the treaty included – to Arthur's absolute discomfort – a joint invasion with imperial, Spanish and English forces against France.

"I do not understand the thirst for warfare," Arthur complained to Catherine as they prepared themselves to meet the Emperor. "I want peace! What will I say to the King of France?! I must send my troops into your kingdom to satisfy my imperial ally?"

"France will be destroyed once and for all," said Catherine simply.

"But it is for the Emperor's benefit! I want peace with France! By God! I gave Boleyn a peerage for his excellent diplomatic service in France! I already expressed interest in signing a peace treaty with France, and I will be signing _another _treaty in two days with France's enemy, stating that I will send troops onto French soil!" He huffed with annoyance while Catherine soothingly adjusted his crown. "I wonder if it is possible to leave the French invasion from the marriage treaty," he muttered more to himself than to Catherine. "Why must your cousin be so...bloodthirsty?!"

"He is the most powerful man in Christendom. I rather have the King of France as England's enemy than the Emperor. Think about it dear husband: your troops win, the English people will celebrate and love you more and say it is the Battle of Agincourt all over again! Besides, you can claim the title 'King of France' like your glorious ancestors."

"I do not want war. Taxes will be raised, the people will starve..."

"Do not concern yourself about that. I will ensure the people are provided for. I'm certain your sisters will contribute to their well-being as well."

"But I do not want war..."

"Oh Arthur! Think about it! Wouldn't it be pleasant for you to be hailed as a hero in the eyes of the people? You will give our Harry two crowns!"

Arthur winced. "In the eyes of the _English_ people. The French will forever view me as a murderer, tyrant and usurper. Besides, I do not have a strong claim to the French throne!"

"King through conquest then."

"Catherine! I do not wish to conquer France! If I do – with the Emperor – I will never forgive myself, and who will be the King of France? The Emperor or me? If I decline the title, your cousin will merely include the title in his vast array of them!"

Catherine sighed. "Arthur-"

"My dear, I love you with all my heart, but I must know: are you the Queen of England of still an Infanta of Castile and Aragon?"

Catherine froze and stared at him. "Pardon?"

"Are you the Queen of England or an Infanta of Spain?" Arthur repeated seriously. "I will be quite disappointed if you still believe you are an Infanta of Spain."

"I'm your wife," said Catherine softly. "It does not matter if I'm Queen of England of a Spanish Infanta. I will always be your wife till God finds it fit to summon me to his side. I will always support your decisions above any other's."

Arthur nodded, satisfied. "Very well. As the Emperor is your nephew, I want you to convince him to release England from invading France."

"That will damage the treaty-"

"Catherine, England is not Spain's loyal dog or one of the Holy Roman Empire's vassals. I will not send my troops to invade France at the Emperor's call. If I did and England wins a few battles, what then? I stand back and watch the Emperor be crowned King of France?"

Catherine sighed again. "As you wish, my lord husband." She curtsied to him and gracefully stalked out, fuming silently at Arthur's determination to remain a peaceful king. My nephew does not care for the title of 'King of France', she thought. My nephew hates France over the Italian duchies that are rightfully his, not that French King's! Now my own husband thinks I might be a traitor! God will bless England once France is destroyed once and for all.

She hovered in front of Henry's door as a thought suddenly struck her. She nodded at the two guards who instantly opened the door for her.

"Henry," she greeted her brother-in-law.

"Catherine," Henry said fondly back. "Shouldn't you be preparing yourself to meet your nephew with Arthur? The Emperor will arrive shortly."

"Indeed I should, but Arthur and I had a small...quarrel. It concerns a matter which I know you will be greatly interested in. However, you must promise to keep it a secret."

"Alright. What is it?"

"In the peace treaty, England will have a joint invasion of France with the Emperor. Arthur wants me to convince the Emperor to drop that clause in the treaty. However, I believe France will remain a thorn in England's side unless France is defeated forever. What do you say, Henry? Do you think that is a...cowardly move of a king?"

Henry nodded vigorously. "I am astounded, my lady Queen! Every king must show their skills on the battlefield sometime during their reign! Arthur must invade France with the Emperor! I cannot believe he wishes to hide from war!"

"Hmm indeed."

"France is unreliable!"

"Perhaps you can persuade him the importance of a vanquished France?" Catherine smiled persuasively at him. "You always wanted to be a true knight!"

Henry nodded again, more enthusiastically than before. "Yes! I will lead my own troops into France and will win great battles!" His expression grew dreamy. "When I return, I will return a hero and Arthur will finally take my advice seriously! I will be given a place in the Privy Council and Arthur will be forever grateful to me and my military prowess!"

Catherine laughed and nodded, knowing the unlikely nature of it. As long as he lives, Arthur will always remain wary of Henry.

"I will talk to Arthur!" Henry promised. "Do not concern yourself with it, Catherine. I will tell him how glorious it is to defeat France."

* * *

The courtiers bowed and curtsied as the royal trumpets were blown. In a bejewelled attire of black, the Emperor approached Arthur and Catherine with the Imperial ambassador – Eustace Chapuys – at his side along with his Spanish entourage.

"Your Imperial Majesty," said Arthur politely. "Such an honour you can come to England."

"Your Majesties," acknowledged the Emperor, smiling at his aunt and Arthur. "It is indeed an honour to be in England to sign the peace treaty."

"Perhaps some entertainment before we ratify the treaty?"

"Ah! Chapuys has been telling me of English entertainment! I am looking forward to witnessing it for myself! What will be presented today?"

"The masquerade performance of 'The Assault on the Chateau Vert'. It is written and directed by our Master of the Revels, William Cornish."

The Emperor nodded. "I see. I hope it is as entertaining as you said it is."

Arthur led him to the great hall with Catherine at his other side, the Spaniards and English courtiers following them quietly.

The courtiers gasped with excitement as they saw the well-constructed and elaborate castle freshly painted green with battlements in hundreds of pieces of green tinfoil opposite them. The musicians – hidden in the constructed castle – played softly as eight ladies – Beauty, Honour, Perseverance, Kindness, Constancy, Bounty, Mercy and Pity – in white satin gowns, golden masks (intricately decorated) and headdresses of Venetian gold stood on the three towers quietly.

Standing across from them were the eight lords – Amorousness, Nobleness, Youth, Attendance, Loyalty, Pleasure, Gentleness and Liberty – dressed handsomely in caps and coats of gold and tinsel with blue

velvet buskins and great mantle cloaks of matching blue satin.

Three women stood in each tower with the exception of two who stood in the main tower which had a burning cresset and – like the other towers – a banner painted with three hearts torn to pieces, a woman's hand gripping a man's heart and a woman's hand turning a man's heart upside down. Guarding the virtuous ladies were the Eight Vices in black gowns, masks decorated with gold and headdresses similar to those playing the Eight Virtues, with the exception that it was coloured in black (though outlined in gold) to match their gowns.

"Why are they, Your Majesty?" murmured the Emperor.

"The captors," whispered Arthur. "They keep the Virtues prisoner."

The Master of Revels – William Cornish – clad in crimson satin embroidered with burning flames in gold as Arden Desire, led the lords' dance towards the castle.

Waving his wooden sword vigorously with a hearty roar at the audience, Ardent Desire leapt back in place in front of the 'Chateau Vert'. "As Ardent Desire, I demand you release your prisoners!" he shouted to the ladies in black.

"As Lady Scorn, I laugh at your desires," a Vice called back, a smirk lingering on her face.

"These men are noble lords!"

"No! They're just men dressed up," countered another Vice.

With a bright, entertained smile, Ardent Desire replied, "I say it again, release these fair damsels that you keep so cruelly!"

"Never!"

"You give us no choice, but to attack and breach your defences!"

"No knight shall ever breach mine!" said another Vice cheekily. The audience and lords laughed for a good minute before Ardent Desire said, "Let desire overcome all!" and after a suspenseful drum roll, he flourished his sword and yelled, "Attack!"

At the sound of the cannon, the lords raced towards the castle and threw rose petals at the Vices while they counteracted through showering the lords with rosewater. Soon, the lords 'rescued' the virtuous ladies and led them into a dance, the majority of the audience eager to see the nobles and royals playing the roles of the Virtues.

When the signal of the unmasking came, the audience gasped as Amorousness – now paired with Perseverance – was revealed to be the Duke of York! No one was particularly surprised that the King's lusty brother played the role of Amorousness but they pretended to be shocked. Most of them were in fact, astounded to see his dance partner to be Anne Boleyn! Some wondered if she was chosen as a dancer to reward Wiltshire for his services, or she was considered beautiful by the King.

Henry smiled at the slender woman with long dark hair and captivating dark brown eyes in front of him, unaware she was one of the Boleyn ladies Katherine described to him earlier in the month. "My Lady Perseverance," he said, flourishing a gallant bow. "I believe I am at an_ utter_ disadvantage: you know my name, while I do not know yours."

"That can be easily remedied, Your Highness," replied Lady Perseverance with a deep curtsey, her enchanting eyes glancing seductively at his. "I am Lady Anne Boleyn, daughter of Sir Thomas Boleyn, 1st Earl of Wiltshire and Lady Elizabeth Boleyn."

* * *

Henry had forgotten his earlier promise to Catherine as he watched the mesmerising Lady Anne dance, laugh and converse throughout the feast.

"Charles," he said, leaning closer to his best friend and brother-in-law. "Why haven't I noticed her before?" He nodded at Anne.

"Lady Carey?" said Suffolk, mistakenly glancing at Lady Carey beside Anne. "She is one of the Queen's ladies." He snorted as he remembered her time in France. "The King of France calls her 'His English Mare'," he informed Henry. "She must be quite talented in the bedchamber." He snorted. "Apparently he never gets tired of riding her."

Henry snickered. Mary glared at both of them from Charles's other side. "I hope you're not talking about what I think you are discussing," she said sharply, giving them both suspicious looks. "Henry, for your information, Lady Carey has behaved with the utmost decorum since her marriage to Sir William Carey, and all that about her life in France are rumours! Charles! I hope you aren't telling my brother inappropriate stories about her."

"Go and talk to the Queen," said Suffolk carelessly, his lusty eyes gazing at Lady Carey. "Besides, your brother asked about Lady Carey. As his loyal subject, it is my duty to answer him."

"Tell me more about Lady Carey," said Henry enthusiastically. None of his mistresses had been as...enjoyable and entertaining since Bessie Blount, and he looked forward in finding a new mistress rather quickly. "Does she have children?"

"No. Not yet I think."

"Hmm. She is quite pretty."

"Indeed."

Henry waved his hand and a servant hurried forward. "Tell Lady Carey I wish to see her in my chambers later tonight," he murmured. "Her brother can escort her to my rooms."

Charles chuckled. "I hope you have a good time tonight."

Mary spluttered with disgust and turned to chat with Katherine.

Henry smirked.

* * *

"Lady Perseverance. I'm pleased you seem happy here."

Anne turned around and beamed as she saw Edmund approach her and Mary. "Your Highness," she said, bobbing him a curtsey. "Or should I say, Lord Nobleness?"

Edmund cracked a smile. "Lady Perseverance, or should I call you Lady Anne?"

"'Anne' will do, if I may call you 'Edmund'."

Lady Carey gasped at her sister's boldness. Even the Duke of Somerset looked vaguely surprised at Anne's daring words.

"Very well, Lady Anne," he said, offering her his hand. "Will you do me the honour by dancing the Pavane with me?"

Anne smiled and accepted.

"Well...dancing with the King's younger brother," said Wiltshire, appearing at Mary's side in a matter of seconds. "Last time she was dancing with Henry Percy, and now she is dancing with Prince Edmund! I cannot see who is more of a harlot, you or her."

Mary flinched. "Father!"

"What? I still remember your disgrace in France. Everyone in England knows about it! If you were pure and innocent, I would've had the chance to marry you to an Earl. Perhaps I would've even had the chance to wed you to Butler. However, you had to whore yourself to the King of France and I had no choice but to marry you to William Carey."

"Father! Please!"

"I cannot believe a daughter of mine will be foolish enough to sleep with the French king. Thank God you didn't give birth to his bastard. Now why can't you be more like Anne? Look at her! She already has Northumberland's heir head-over-heels in love with her, and now she is dancing with the Duke of Somerset! Now I wish I summoned Anne back earlier. The Duke of Somerset does not seem to be the type of person to father bastards, but he is a hot-blooded Tudor and perhaps Anne's wit can change that. She certainly does not have beauty!" He chuckled. "It would be even better if Anne gives him a son. After all, Their Majesties only have one son. The King has two brothers, but none of them have legitimate sons. Who knows? Maybe the Duke of Somerset will consider marrying Anne to legitimise his future son if she gives him any that is."

"So you are furious I flirted with the King of France, and fine with Anne sleeping with the Duke of Somerset and bearing his sons?!"

"Do not speak to me that way Lady Carey! Besides, if George was not dancing with Lady Margaret Courtenay, I would be speaking to him about my hopes! He is a man who understands, not you, a foolish woman. The only use I have for you is to bear your husband sons. I hope you do not disappoint me in that either." He gave Mary Carey a disdainful look. "You already disappointed me far too much and if you cannot bear your husband at least three children, I wipe my hands on you! I will not have a daughter who is rendered infertile!"

Mary nodded meekly, hurt by her father's words.

"Your Lordship," said a servant, bowing to Wiltshire. "My Lady Carey." He nodded at Mary. "I am here on the order of His Royal Highness, the Duke of York," he explained. "His Highness wishes for me to inform you that he requests you in his chambers after the feast. Will there be a reply?"

Wiltshire's eyebrows rose alarmingly quickly. "Lady Carey?" he asked.

"Yes, my lord," confirmed the servant. "Lady Carey."

"She will go to His Highness's chambers as he commands," Wiltshire, answered giving Mary a different look – surprise? Astonishment? – before dismissing the servant with a wave of his hand. "It seems I was wrong about you," he said to the shocked Mary in a much friendlier tone. "The Duke of York has apparently caught your fancy and requested for you in his chambers tonight! He has not spoken to you once and asked for you! What an accomplishment!"

"I thought you would disapprove of it," said Mary nervously. "You were furious-"

"That was the King of France, this is _the Duke of York_ we are speaking of. Pity His Majesty does not take mistresses. However, the Duke of York does, and he already acknowledged one bastard." He lowered his voice into a minimal whisper. "What if the Prince of Wales dies without children? The King will only have two daughters. We all know that women cannot rule England. Thankfully the King has two brothers. If I speak to your Uncle Norfolk and other nobles, perhaps we can press the King to agree to enforcing Salic Law in England, where women – and their descendants – cannot succeed to the throne. The Duke of York will be extremely grateful to me, and what then? What better way than to marry the woman who already bears him sons? Your marriage to Carey can be easily dissolved, and he will be rewarded if he agrees to annulment. All you must do is bear the Duke of York sons and ensure you hold his love and affection for as many years as possible."

"I do not know-"

"You _will_ hold his love and affection for as long as you live." His voice was dangerously soft. "If you dare give him a daughter or lose his love, I will wash my hands over you and disinherit you. The minute the Duke chooses another mistress, you will find yourself no longer my daughter."

"But I-"

"Do you understand?"

Mary sighed, defeated. "I understand, lord Father."

Wiltshire nodded, satisfied. "Excellent. I do not need to tell you ways to please a man. I'm certain that may be your only ah, shining quality."

* * *

"Good luck," whispered George, tapping softly on the Duke of York's door. The guards opened the door and George nodded encouragingly at Mary.

A little nervous with butterflies fluttering wildly in her stomach, Mary entered the Duke of York's chambers. Lit by a roaring fire and a few candles, the Duke of York rose from his chair, the shadows shifting from him as he walked towards her.

"Lady Carey," he murmured. "You came."

Mary curtsied, her dark purple cloak pooling around her feet.

"Your Highness," she said softly.

Her hood fell back and revealed her lustrous blonde hair. The Duke gasped sharply as he saw her hair and sparkling blue eyes.

"You are a beautiful lady," he said huskily. "Very beautiful..." He felt himself harden as he allowed his fingers to skim over Mary's smooth face.

"Thank you, Your Highness," replied Mary quietly.

"Please...call me 'Henry'."

"Very well...Henry."

He helped her up and tingling with excitement, led her to his magnificent bed that had held many women Henry had sported with over the last few years, including his late wife and Bessie Blount. He had forgotten the thrill of taking a new mistress to his bed and – with the help of a few cups of wine – could not wait to extract pleasure from the sweet-faced, blonde-haired woman in front of him who somehow reminded him of Bessie Blount.

"Wait."

Henry looked at her, slightly annoyed. He hated when his late _devout_ wife refused to sleep with him with the excuse of praying for sons. All Bessie said was "Yes, my lord," and it pleased him.

"I'm married," said Mary nervously. "My husband-"

"He will be compensated," said Henry carelessly, reaching to untie her dress. "I will reward him with lands and wealth. Come now Mary..."

Wiltshire's cruel expression flashed in Mary's mind and she said, "Wait!" in a panicked tone. She knelt in front of him and smiled seductively at him. "This will please you more, my lord," she said sweetly, reaching for his hardened member. "I promise, my Henry."

Henry moaned and remembered the beautiful, enchanting Anne Boleyn he met during the 'Chateau Vert' performance. She was confident...so different from her sister on her knees in front of him. He envisioned it was Anne suckling his member rather than Mary, and when he reached his climax, he could not help, but groan, "_My Anne..._"

* * *

**I kind of copied the 'Chateau Vert' part from my other story - The Dragon and the Rose - and the ending may be a bit crappy, but I never really wrote those type of scenes before. I hope you enjoy the chapter! :D **


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter V

**June, 1522**

Anne had kept her distance from Mary ever since the days after the performance of 'Chateau Vert' to the chagrin of Wiltshire.

She remembered when Mary told her, "The Duke of York wasn't interested in me at all. It was you he wanted. While I pleasured him, all he could do was moan your name. At first, I thought he called his late wife's name, but then...I just knew it was you."

Truthfully, Anne was disgusted. She was appalled when she heard Mary was the Duke of York's newest mistress, and was even more horrified when she was told their father encouraged it.

"Lady Anne?"

Anne almost jumped as her thoughts were interrupted when the Queen called for her. Blushing furiously, she ran to her mistress's side, embroidery in hand.

"Is it true?" the Queen whispered to her, glancing around cautiously for nosy eavesdroppers. "Does the Duke of York wish to take Lady Carey with him to France? I know I am not one for gossip, but it affects my family and it will be scandalous if Lady Carey accompanies him to France!"

Despite the King's efforts to prevent a joint invasion of France with the Holy Roman Emperor, England found itself signing a treaty with Spain in launching war against France. Tired of Henry's constant badgering to lead a battle, the King authorised him to lead a squadron of English soldiers onto French soil with the Duke of Suffolk and other war-experienced soldiers. The King had no desire for war with France and only half-heartedly signed the war campaign papers. Henry and the English soldiers were to head out in a few months, and the Queen was not pleased when she heard rumours from the Duchess of Suffolk that Henry was taking his mistress with him to France.

"It is true, Your Majesty," said Anne uncomfortably. "If you do not mind me speaking bluntly, I believe His Highness is infatuated with Lady Carey and as he is unmarried, he wishes to take Lady Carey with him to France to...soothe him when he needs her."

The Queen shuddered. "She is indeed his mistress?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. For at least three months."

The Queen was silent for a few minutes before saying, "Do you think your father will press the Duke of York to marry your sister?"

Anne frowned. "Your Majesty, I cannot-"

"Will he marry Lady Carey?" the Queen pressed. "Will your father annul her marriage to Sir William only to force her to marry my brother-in-law?"

Before Anne could answer, the door opened and the King came in with an expression of absolute relief and slight concern. The Queen waved her hand and all her ladies – including Anne – rose. As Anne turned to leave, she felt the Queen touch her sleeve. "You stay," she said quietly. "Keep sewing. You are doing a beautiful job." Her eyes met the quizzical expression of her husband's. "Lady Anne is a reliable woman," she informed him. "She also happens to be one of my finest sewers and the French tutor to the royal children. Perhaps after your news, we can hear about our children's progress?"

"Of course," said the King, nodding at Anne. He looked at the Queen again and announced, "King Francis has offered peace between our two kingdoms! I will not have to send troops to France! Is that not glorious news? I will not have innocent blood on my hands!"

"What about the treaty with the Emperor?" said the Queen with a frown.

The King's eyes twinkled. "The Emperor does not need to be told," he said secretively. "Henry will lead a regiment of men to France, yes, but for peace, not war. We already have a fine wool trade with Spain and the Lower Countries, and now we can increase commercial gain with France! Isn't that brilliant, my dearest Catherine? Benefits for England and peace!"

"What does King Francis offer?"

"The French court is one of great fashion tastes, and one thing they lack is high quality wool. Even Francis admits that English wool is the best in all of Christendom. In exchange for peace, England will open up a new trade route with France and France will formally relinquish its claim on Calais. Furthermore, we will receive a hundred and seventy five thousand crowns – seventy five thousand crowns upfront – and our Harry will marry one of his daughters of my choice with a dowry of two hundred and fifty thousand crowns and free trade of silks, wine and ale." He beamed at her. "What do you think, Catherine? Is that not a perfect way to prevent war?"

"You wish to lie to my cousin?"

The King sighed. "Catherine, we went through this before. You are my Queen of England, not an Infanta of Spain. Your allegiance is to me! You promised! Our Mary will still marry the Emperor and I intend to keep peace with Spain and the Holy Roman Empire! Are you not pleased there will be peace with France with excellent benefits for England?"

"You want England be bought off by a hundred and seventy five thousand crowns?! What about all of England's victorious battles?! Are they nothing to you?"

"Catherine!"

"You have the chance to crush France to its knees and you do nothing?! King Francis is willing to sign a peace treaty with you because he is against Spain and more concerned with the Italian Wars! Francis will not keep his promises to you. He is too foxy for that."

"Really? Then why did he agree to an immediate marriage of Harry and one of his daughters to be held shortly?" Noticing the Queen's stunned expression, he continued, "I also secured our future daughter-in-law as our ward and after celebrations in France, she will continue her education here alongside Harry and our daughters. Moreover, Francis has agreed to relinquish his second son Henri, Duke of Orléans into our care until a hundred and seventy five thousand crowns are in our treasury. What do you think of that, dear wife? The King of France is prepared to give us two of his own children as proof he is willing to fulfil his end of the peace treaty."

The Queen nodded, still in shock.

"Which princess have you chosen?" she said finally.

"I leave that in Wiltshire's capable hands," said the King, glancing at Anne, who feigned interest in her needlework. "Now, Lady Anne! I believe you are French tutor to our children?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," affirmed Anne, standing up and curtseying before returning to her seat at the Queen's side. "I am quite impressed with their love for learning," she added. "The Prince of Wales is an intelligent boy and has mastered French quite easily, as did the Princess Mary. The Princess Cecily is still young and struggles a little with her words, but I believe she has the aptitude of mastering languages like her older siblings and will be fluent in French in a year or two."

The King nodded, satisfied. "Excellent. I believe the children are fond of you."

Anne smiled with pleasure. "That is what I aim for, Your Majesty."

"I see." He handed her a purse of coins. "That is for your services, Lady Anne."

Anne shook her head and returned it to him. "I do not require payment, Your Majesty," she said softly, her head bowed. "I do it for my love for England. I enjoy teaching the Prince and Princesses French and their accomplishments are my rewards."

"Well-spoken," praised the Queen, nodding approvingly.

"I cannot allow you to teach them without payment!" exclaimed the King, clearly struck by a dilemma. "I must give you-"

Anne shook her head more insistently. "No, Your Majesty. It is already an honour for me to teach the royal children French. I do not need payment."

"At least an ample dowry-"

"That is for my lord father to provide, Your Majesty. Every time the Prince or Princesses learn a new word, I become happier."

"More land, estates-"

"No, Your Majesty." She looked at the King firmly in the eye. "You do not need to reward me. You have already honoured me by selecting me to teach French to your children. Reward those who serve you loyally, not me. Please." She knew her father would berate her for her apparent foolishness, but she did not care. She truly enjoyed teaching the young prince and princesses French and found it a rewarding challenge and pleasure.

"Lady Anne has made up her mind," the Queen said to her husband gently.

The King nodded, charmed by Anne's truthfulness and unselfish nature. Many governesses and tutors would've accepted the purse of coins and expected peerages or estates – with the exception of a few such as their good friend and humanist Sir Thomas More who was Harry's tutor for philosophy – either for personal gain or were pressured by their greedy and ambitious family members, but Lady Anne Boleyn had out rightfully refused!

"Henry will represent me in France," the King said, turning his attention back to his wife. "Have you chosen a representative? It will be an utter embarrassment if Henry presents Lady Carey to Francis. I will banish him from court if he did attempt it."

"Most likely your sister Katherine," answered the Queen. "She is unmarried and it will do her good to journey to France."

"A fitting choice. Will you organise her entourage?"

"Of course. Only the most well-behaved ladies of the highest rankings will go with Katherine. I will not have her being served by harlots."

The King chuckled. "Will you transfer some of your own virtuous ladies to her royal entourage temporarily for the occasion?"

"Of course. In fact, I think it is fitting to send Lady Anne here to join Katherine's retinue of ladies for the journey to France. She spent time in France and knows Francis and his sister Marguerite. She can advise Henry on the best ways to proceed in negotiations. Besides, Lord Wiltshire, Lady Wiltshire, Lord Rochford and Lady Carey will be there. Lady Anne can be with her family."

The King nodded and asked Anne, "Are you willing to travel to France?"

"If it is Your Majesty's command," answered Anne, excited to return to France.

"Excellent," said the King, smiling at her. "Why don't you go tell your family the good news that you will join them in France? I'd like a moment with my Queen."

* * *

Overjoyed with the prospect of going to France in Princess Katherine's entourage, Anne walked happily to her father's apartments and met Edmund on the way.

"Your Highness," she said, a smile hovering on her face.

"Lady Anne," acknowledged Edmund, slightly surprised at her good mood. "Are you smiling because you are pleased to see me, or do you have more joyful news?"

Of course I am delighted to see you, thought Anne, but she said, "Their Majesties asked if I wanted to go to France in Princess Katherine's retinue of ladies."

"You accepted?"

"Indeed! It will be exciting to return!"

"You have only been here for four months, my lady! Some may say you are more French than English if you are this eager to return to France!" His eyes darted around cautiously before he murmured, "It is not wise to be so cheerful about this. Their Majesties may favour you now, but what if councillors begin whispering words against you in their ears? You may not be favoured so much and may be even seen as a traitor. That will not be good."

Anne's smile diminished. "That will not happen," she said confidently. "I have never showed any signs of traitorous behaviour!"

"Your sister slept with the French king."

"_Allegedly_, but-"

"You are too French, Anne! Too French! Your father is the English ambassador to France, you were raised in France and your sister had a royal affair in France! For your sake, keep your happiness to yourself, please. Be an English woman, Anne. For your own sake."

Anne looked at him strangely. "What is it that I must know?"

Edmund stared at her, astonished. "My lady Anne! You are by far one of the most cleverest women I know! Think, Lady Anne! Think!"

Anne frowned and said slowly, "The councillors are not pleased with the idea of peace with France. They want war. They want England to be glorious and powerful and what better way than to defeat France in battle? They want the Battle of Agincourt again."

Edmund nodded grimly. "Not all the councillors, mind you. Sir Thomas More is delighted at peace as is Cardinal Wolsey, but some nobles are eager for war, not to mention my brother Henry. I'm afraid he read too many stories about wars and knights as a child and always had a dream about leading England to victory in a war against France. It won't surprise you if I tell you he idolised William the Conqueror and Henry V of England and often dreamed he would be a warrior prince. He will never want a peace treaty with France – even if Arthur wants it."

"You mean the Duke of York will sabotage the peace negotiations?"

Edmund shrugged. "I cannot say. I wish Arthur will go to France and negotiate himself. It is wrong of me to say I don't trust my brother, but he when it comes to decision-making, he thinks by his heart, not his head! How he decides that way I cannot imagine."

"What about yourself, my prince? Do you decide with my head or your heart?"

Edmund stared at her blankly. "With my head of course."

"Then you are a fool," said Anne tartly. She curtsied to the surprised Edmund and flounced off before he could say another word.

* * *

After her conversation with Edmund, Anne could not concentrate on teaching the royal prince and princesses French that afternoon.

She wondered if she went too far in calling him a fool.

"Lady Anne," said Princess Mary, staring at her. "Is anything the matter?"

"_Non ma chère_," replied Anne, smiling at her. She pushed a small French volume towards her and flipped to a random page. "Read it to us," she encouraged.

"It is a book about Isabella of France!" exclaimed the Prince of Wales.

Anne hastily closed the book and placed another one in front of Princess Mary. "Try this one," she said, her cheeks slightly pink.

"The sun is shining," commented Cecily, staring at her with her wide, innocent, blue eyes. "Can we play in the gardens, Lady Anne? Please?"

Anne smiled, despite her troubled thoughts. She was aware that Princess Cecily was less studious than her elder siblings – no doubt it was due to her being the King and Queen's youngest child and generally doted upon by her parents and many aunts and uncles – and had an irresistibly sweet charm. However, the sun _did_ shine brightly and beckoned them to the gardens with its radiant rays.

"Very well," she said, closing the book and standing up. "We've all been in this room for far too long today, don't you think? Let us go for a walk before we are summoned to supper."

The royal prince and princesses nodded enthusiastically – especially Cecily.

"You must sing to us later," said Cecily cheerfully.

"I am not a talented singer, my princess," said Anne, grabbing a book she had began reading the night before. "Other ladies sing sweetly while I sing terribly."

"You are one of our mother's ladies," insisted Harry. "That means you must be an excellent singer, Lady Anne. Our mother will not accept a poor singer."

"Your mother, the Queen, is a kind woman. She will accept any woman of noble birth in her household, not just me. Your aunt, Her Grace of Suffolk, spoke highly of me to the Queen which is one of the reasons why I – a horrid singer – became one of her maids-of-honour."

"Does your father take mistresses?"

"What?" Anne was taken back. She stared at the sweet prince who repeated the question with such solemnity like the King that it frightened her.

"What is a mistress?" said Cecily curiously.

"Um..." said Anne uncomfortably.

"Bessie Blount is Uncle Henry's mistress isn't she?" said Princess Mary brightly.

"Princess Mary! Have you been eavesdropping again?" said Anne sternly.

"Maybe," said Princess Mary sheepishly. Her siblings looked at her, Harry's eyebrows raised. "Lady Salisbury was talking loudly outside my chambers," she said defensively. "If she did not want me to hear about Bessie Blount, she should have whispered or talked somewhere else."

"It is not honourable for a lady – especially a princess like yourself – to eavesdrop on conversations of others," said Harry disapprovingly. "You should have closed your eyes and covered your ears. Lady mother would not be pleased to know you eavesdropped and heard about Bessie Blount. Father will be very disappointed in you too."

"You listen too," retorted the fiery Princess.

"Is Bessie Blount still Uncle Henry's mistress?" wondered Cecily.

"Now, now," said Anne, ushering them quickly into the gardens before they attract too much unwanted attention. She glanced around cautiously before herding them under a tree and encouraged them to run around like ordinary children.

She smiled as the royal children began playing a game of hide and seek, with Harry counting loudly in French. She created the game for them – and the other noble children she taught French to like their Brandon cousins and young Meg of York – when she realised Cecily had some trouble remembering the numbers and what better way for her young charges to practise than through a game? When she suggested it to the King and Queen, they were delighted and praised her for the idea. Now, hide and seek was favoured greatly by the young royals and they had taken it upon themselves to count in different languages such as Latin, French and Spanish.

Pleased at the wise actions of bringing the children to the gardens and impressed by Harry's French, Anne settled under another tree and after watching the children for a little while, opened her book and began to read, the children's laughter nothing but faint music in her mind.

"Lady Anne?"

Anne blinked and squinted against the bright afternoon sun as she heard her name. Staring down at her was Princess Katherine.

"Your Highness," said Anne, scrambling up and managing a hasty curtsey.

"Please, call me 'Katherine'," said the Princess, glancing at her book before returning her attention to a slightly flustered Anne. "I thought you are supposed to be in the schoolroom teaching my royal nephew and nieces French today?"

"I did…" Anne muttered. "However the sun was so bright and Princess Cecily longed to be in the gardens and I just…agreed?"

Katherine nodded. "I see. A creative approach to teaching, Lady Anne? Allowing your pupils to run and hide around the royal gardens with one counting in French? I suppose that is one way to teach them the French numbers. I wished my French tutor was as entertaining and kind as you, Lady Anne in my educational years. My tutor – Mistress Jane Popincourt – was kind, yes, but then a more austere tutor replaced her. I still do not know why, but I suspect the King sacked her when he heard rumours that she was Henry's mistress for a short time."

"Yes...I remember Mistress Popincourt in the French court. She begged for a place in Her Grace's household – when she was Queen consort of France – but the King of France refused her a place. I remembered Lady Carey telling me that the King said he would not have an immoral woman in his consort's household."

"I see."

"I apologise if I have offended you with ugly words, Your Highness-"

Katherine put up her hand. "No, it is alright. I am pleased you were honest with me, and I am glad it was you who told me. I'd rather hear the truth from you than from Henry's boasts. It was only last night when Henry boasted to his companions how well he rode Lady Carey." He shuddered. "My ladies enjoy gossiping and I wish I never heard that."

"Indeed. It is inappropriate for a virtuous lady like yourself to hear those words."

"I wish Henry would not boast of his...successes in the bedchamber. I hope when he leaves for France, he will behave and not sleep around with French harlots." She looked at her. "I heard Lady Carey will be in France. Is that true?"

"Yes." Anne shifted uncomfortably. "My father and mother will be in France, as will Lord Rochford, and the Queen has placed me in your entourage of ladies to France."

Katherine smiled widely. "I am honoured the Queen chose me to represent her in France and even more pleased you will be in my temporary household. I wish you can stay a permanent lady in my household, Lady Anne, but I must relinquish you back to the Queen once the French business is over. I hope it all ends well. It will be horrible if Henry ruins it. For some odd reason, he has a burning passion against the French, and his own daughter is half-French! The King should not have indulged him in books about chivalrous knights when he was a young child, as Her Grace of Suffolk informs me. Will you train your sister in advising him how to speak to the French king?"

Before Anne could reply, Edmund had briskly walked up to her, his eyes slightly bewildered and red, an open letter in hand.

"Anne," he said, not even noticing Katherine.

"Your Highness," said Anne with a graceful curtsey. "I apologise for my earlier words-"

"You were right," interrupted Edmund, his right hand curled into a shaking fist. "I am a fool to make decisions with my head instead of my heart. Those who do think with their heads are heartless, cruel and foolish. I have been a fool for the majority of my life, always judging Henry for his rash actions that I thought occurred from decisions made from the heart. Anne, I do not know what to do..." He held up the letter. "It is from the Duke of Cleves," he explained, heaving a deep sigh. "It's about my sister...my sister Elizabeth." He closed his eyes. "She's dead."

* * *

**Next chapter will revolve around Elizabeth Tudor, daughter of Henry VII of England and Elizabeth of York :) **


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter VI

**_January, 1514 _**

_"__My dear Elizabeth," said Arthur, embracing her warmly once she stepped out of the carriage. "I hope you are well. You are looking quite pale."_

_"__My lord king," said Elizabeth Tudor, curtseying to him while suppressing a tired yawn; the journey from Eltham Palace was quite tiring and drained her of stamina. "I am only tired, nothing more. Perhaps I will glow with good health more after a good night's sleep."_

_"__Perhaps." He released her and studied her intently. Tall – like all the Tudors – and slim, she was an unusual jewel in the royal family. Unlike Margaret, who had a pleasant face with lovely locks of brown hair; Mary, who was often said to be the greatest prize in their family and one of the most beautiful princesses in Europe due to her tall and slender build, greyish eyes and glorious red-gold hair; and even young Katherine, who looked remarkably angelic, Elizabeth carried a rare air about her, a sense of passing tranquillity and goodness usually associated with a saint. Moreover, she was the only child of Henry VII's large brood of offspring who had inherited their mother's 'Plantagenet look' of fair hair and complexion, or as their father would put it, 'the Yorkist appearance' as all Yorkist princesses seemed to have fair hair and features. _

_"__Why am I called here?" said Elizabeth, breaking Arthur from his thoughts._

_"__You will find out very shortly," Arthur replied, taking her hand and leading her into Richmond Palace. "I thought it would be nice for you to see us more rather than to live alone with your household in Eltham for the rest of your life! Only Margaret could not be with us today." He sighed. _

_"__How is the Queen faring?"_

_"__Physically well but emotionally distressed. She recently found out she is with child again and is concerned the child will not survive. I wish I could say or do something that will calm her down! She may feel better once she sees you again."_

_"__I will do my best to aid Her Majesty."_

_Arthur smiled. "Thank you. May I ask why you decline most of my invitations to return to court? As my sister, you will always have a place there."_

_"__I prefer the peace and tranquillity of Eltham Palace in Kent. There will never be corruption and I will always be served by those loyal to me. You know as well as I do that not all courtiers serve you obediently. I still believe Buckingham is plotting against you, and I worry for Henry. I'm afraid Buckingham is influencing him against you. For the sake of the crown, you must banish Buckingham from court."_

_Arthur sighed and said patiently, "Buckingham will cause more trouble for me if I exile him. I rather allow him to stay at court to keep an eye on him. Buckingham is a plotter by nature and even if I shower him with favours and gold, he will never stop plotting. Do not concern yourself with Buckingham, dear Elizabeth. He will not harm you as long as I'm alive."_

_Elizabeth nodded worriedly. "If you say so, my lord."_

_"__Come! You must be ravenous! A feast has been prepared for you and we will dine – family only of course – before we talk again."_

_Elizabeth nodded meekly and followed her brother further into the palace, the heavy doors closing behind her with a loud boom. She shuddered as the thought of entrapment entered her mind. She had never liked being at court and was willing to relinquish her entire collection of jewels to return to Eltham.  
_

* * *

_"Your Highnesses," said Cardinal Wolsey, bowing to Mary and Elizabeth after they curtsied to Arthur in the throne room crowded with a sea of councillors and courtiers._

_On the throne beside Arthur, Catherine smiled at them._

_"__Wolsey," Mary acknowledged while Elizabeth murmured politely, "Your Eminence."_

_"__His Majesty had given me the honour of informing you of your impending futures," began Wolsey in a rather pompous tone. "As both Your Highnesses are aware, your duty is to marry for the good of England and bear your husband heirs. Many rulers are eager to befriend your brother the King, and with the complete agreement and approval of his Privy Council-" He puffed his chest arrogantly. "-I am delighted to enlighten you with the glorious news that both your betrothals have been secured."_

_Elizabeth swallowed the news silently while the hot-tempered Mary stared at Arthur and said sharply, "I_

_am not a horse to be sold and carted off in the market!"_

_Wolsey smiled, "It is expected of you to marry, Your Highness."_

_"__I will marry the man I choose! I refuse to marry a stranger!"_

_Wolsey turned to Arthur. "Your Majesty, may I speak earnestly?"_

_Arthur nodded, as if expecting the respect._

_Wolsey's attention returned to Mary and he said calmly, "Your Highness, you have lived a life of luxury and it is expected of you to cement an alliance of peace for the good of England! You _will _marry the king His Majesty chooses for you, no matter if he is a babe or a man old enough to be your father! With the full consent of His Majesty and the Privy Council, I am pleased to inform you, Your Highness, that in a few days, you will be betrothed to His Most Christian Majesty, the King of France and will marry him in September. As for Your Highness-" He nodded at Elizabeth. "-you will be happy to hear His Majesty has agreed for you to marry His Royal Highness, the Duke of Cleves, a man of peaceful intentions."_

_Elizabeth nodded; surprised her chosen spouse was a German ruler of an insignificant duchy rather than a prince of a more powerful kingdom._

_"__Religious dissatisfaction is spreading throughout the German states," Arthur explained as he noticed her confused expression. "With His Holiness's permission and blessing, I thought it would be an excellent idea for you to marry the Duke of Cleves to preserve Catholicism in the people of Cleves and to keep the Duke on His Holiness's side if there will ever be a religious war." He shuddered at the thought of war. "The Duke is a kind man and in no hurry for heirs; he has a brother and many male-lined cousins. He is aware of your delicate health and is willing to overlook it for religious peace."_

_"__What about me?!" said Mary, almost screeching with rage. "You are marrying me to an old man! I will not wed that old lecher!"_

_The courtiers flinched at her words._

_Wolsey looked at her coldly. "Your Highness, the King of France is by no means a lecher. He was quite faithful to both his wives and will be a faithful husband to you too. Your Majesty, may I suggest Her Highness to be dismissed due to her distress?"_

_"__Of course," said Arthur, relieved at the suggestion. "Mary, please go to your chambers. Will we further discuss your betrothal later, when you are more…calm."_

_Mary stalked out, pausing near the door. She looked back at him and growled, "I am not a child and you are not our father!" before swiftly walking out._

_"__She certainly acts like a child," said Wolsey snidely._

_"__Your Eminence!" snapped Catherine. "Some respect, please! You are speaking about a Princess of England, not a mere noblewoman!"_

_"__Of course, Your Majesty," said the wily Cardinal, bowing mockingly to her._

_"__Elizabeth," said Arthur, glancing at his quiet sister. "You have not said a word about your engagement to the Duke of Cleves. May I take it you are unimpressed with your future spouse?"_

_"__Your Majesty-" began Wolsey, but Arthur raised his hand and silenced him._

_"__On the contrary, Your Majesty," replied Elizabeth. "I am honoured to marry the Duke for the good of England. However, I am relatively surprised you wish for me to marry the Duke. I thought that as a child, I was betrothed to Prince François de Valois, Count of Angoulême?"_

_"__You were," agreed Arthur. "However King Louis XII of France is under the belief he will be sonless and as a precaution, betrothed his eldest daughter – Princess Claude – to his heir, the Count of Angoulême. Mary is healthier than you and a better choice of bride to the French King, who has not fully given up hope in siring his own heir. If Mary succeeds in giving him a son, Princess Claude will be Duchess Regnant of Brittany through her mother and Countess Consort of Angoulême. If Mary fails, Claude will be Queen of France. I would've preferred you to remain in England as your are of a more delicate constitution, but His Eminence here reminded me of my duty to the Pope to defend Catholicism from any…harmful religion. I hear the Duke of Cleves is a kind, considerate man who does not seem to have the heart of siring bastards like his father. As a warning, when you arrive in the Cleves court, you will find many of the former Duke's bastards as the current Duke's advisors, soldiers or just courtiers."_

_"__Very well. When will I wed the Duke?"_

_"__Your betrothal ceremony will be on the same day as Mary's, as will the wedding. I expect you will_

_celebrate it more in Cleves. I heard the people of Cleves always enjoy a good celebration and will be more than delighted to host festivities for your wedding."_

_"What about Mary? She seems extremely upset about her betrothal."_

_Arthur sighed. "Don't worry yourself about Mary. She has been fawned since a child and must be made to accept the match. I'm glad you accept the Duke as your future spouse without a fuss."  
_

* * *

_Elizabeth cried with happiness as the head midwife handed her a squealing bundle of joy. After twelve months of marriage, she had fallen pregnant and now gave birth to a healthy child. It was a girl, but both she and the Duke were delighted._

_"She is beautiful," declared the Duke, kissing his newborn daughter's forehead. "My dear Elizabeth, are you well? Healthy? Recovered?"_

_"Yes," answered Elizabeth, smiling at him widely. "Are you pleased?"_

_"Of course! She is healthy and we will have many children in the future! I am thinking of naming her 'Anna', after my sister, the Countess of Waldeck."_

_"A lovely name." Elizabeth liked her sister-in-law and was more than happy to name her infant daughter after her. "Princess Anna of Cleves," she tried out. As if pleased with her name, baby Anna gurgled happily and smiled at her parents._

_"Princess Anna it is," agreed the Duke. He tickled baby Anna's chin and smiled at Elizabeth. "We will have many children," he said softly to her. "A whole brood of sons and daughters, but we will wait for you to fully recover. It is your health that matters more."  
_

* * *

_Comfortably sitting in front of the fireplace, Elizabeth opened the letter she had received earlier. A year had passed since she gave birth to Anna and her patient husband had not once asked if she had the symptoms of pregnancy at all._

My dear sister,_ she read. _I hope the climate of Cleves suits you well and your husband and people treat you with the utmost respect and love. Again, I must congratulate you on Anna's health – and your own – and I have good news to share with you: Catherine had just given birth to a bonny daughter and we named her 'Mary', after the Holy Virgin (and our sister of course). She is already a beautiful jewel of England and Henry had started calling her 'his pearl'. Catherine and I have chosen you, the King of France, Cardinal Wolsey and the Countess of Devon to be her godparents while Lady Salisbury will be her sponsor at her confirmation. Speaking of the King of France, I'm certain you are aware that old King Louis XII has died of what appeared to be over-exertion in the bedchamber. His successor – the new king – is Francis I, formerly the Duke of Valois and his queen is Mary's stepdaughter, Princess Claude. Speaking of Mary, she has given birth a few months ago to a daughter – Princess Marie de Valois – to the delight of King Francis, his sister Marguerite and their mother, the rather ambitious Louise of Savoy, Dowager Countess of Angoulême. She had also secretly married Charles Brandon straight after her period of mourning! I do not know whether to be pleased or furious! Henry pled for me to accept their marriage – Brandon had always been more Henry's friend than mine – and after a long discussion with my councillors, I agreed to accept the marriage and acknowledge that Mary remains a princess. For her sake, I bestowed the dukedom of Suffolk upon Brandon and embraced him as a brother-in-law. I hope to hear from you soon, your beloved brother, Arthur.

_Sighing quietly, she folded the letter and placed it back on the table, slightly depressed Mary had the chance to marry for love and live in England, while annoyed that Mary chose love over her maternal duty to her infant daughter who was left behind in France. She will be King Francis's pawn, she thought. There will be a time when Marie misses her mother, and you will not be there for her._

_"__Reminiscing of England again, my dear?"_

_Elizabeth smiled as she saw the Duke approach her. "I was reading a letter my brother wrote me," she explained. "You seem happy today."_

_"__My brother Adolf has a son!" said the Duke happily. "With my blessing, he'd married Anna of Saxony abroad last year and now has a son! Adolf's named him Johann after me. Isn't that wonderful, my dear Elizabeth?! Now that Adolf has a son, you do not have to be pressured in having a son!" He frowned slightly as he thought of his newborn nephew's inheritance that currently consisted of the lordships of Ravenstein and Wijnendale. "Perhaps it is a blessing," he said slowly. "We have Anna and Adolf has Johann. They can marry and succeed me jointly as the Duke and Duchess Regnant of Cleves."_

_"__You do not want a son?"_

_"__Your health is much more important. Besides, the two lordships can merge into the duchy as it did once many years ago."  
_

* * *

_Exhausted from her ordeals in childbirth, Elizabeth laid on her bed, her heart throbbing with pain and disappointment. It is 1519 – four years since Anna's birth – and for the second time, she had delivered a weak child who died minutes after his birth._

_Elizabeth didn't even ask if it was a son or daughter; his (or her) pitiful whimper was a certain sign that he (or she) would not live._

_As patient as ever, the Duke comforted her before informing her, "The physicians said you are fortunate to be alive. They warned you may not survive another pregnancy and advised us to…stop. It seems it is God's will for us to only have Anna."_

_He loved Elizabeth and would never swap Anna for a son, but the threat of Lutheranism had spread much more quickly throughout the neighbouring duchies than he had anticipated and it would always be useful to have more than one bargaining chip – especially when his sole pawn was already betrothed theoretically to young Johann of Cleves for the security of a safe succession. He also missed the sound of laughter from the royal nursery, which had remained empty since Johann and his siblings lived in their maternal grandfather's duchy and Anna had her own chambers._

_"__Your Highness." The Countess of Waldeck appeared at Elizabeth's bedside._

_"__Countess Anna," said Elizabeth weakly. "I'm glad you are here."_

_"__I have news that you may not want to hear. However, it is imperative you are aware of it. A selection of my brother's councillors have embraced Lutheranism and are urging him to divorce you and marry a Lutheran princess to secure the succession. He has refused to annul your marriage, but he is slightly disappointed you do not have any more children – even one other sibling for Anna. If you have another daughter, she could marry the heir of the leading Lutheran duke while Anna marries Johann."_

_"__Will His Highness ever divorce me?"_

_"__Of course not! In doing so, he will anger your brother and endanger the treaty! However, if he ever believes the wicked words of those councillors, you will be relieved to know you will always have a friend in me." She squeezed Elizabeth's hand supportively._

_Elizabeth smiled gratefully at her. "Thank you. Would it be easier for my husband if I just agree to an annulment and leave?"_

_The Countess stared at her, shocked. "Your Highness! You must not give up so easily! If you divorce my brother, what do you think will happen your daughter? She will be raised a Lutheran and married to one! I cannot believe you are considering annulment! The people love you and will be outraged if you hide in a nunnery or return to England!"_

_"__Thank you for telling me," said Elizabeth quietly, wishing she had taken a vow of chastity and became a nun when she had the chance in England. "Will there be severe consequences if I do not give my husband any more children? I would love for Anna to have siblings, but I do not think I am capable of having more healthy children. You are fortunate to be blessed with fertility." She glanced enviously at her sister-in-law's swollen stomach. "Your third child?"_

_"__indeed." The Countess patted her stomach fondly. "My husband wants another son, but I hope it will be a daughter. I already have two sons and if I have a girl, I will name her after you, Your Highness. I look forward in presenting you little Lady Elisabeth of Waldeck." _

_"__Will your husband be unhappy at a daughter?"_

_"__No. He already has his heir and a spare. I suppose he will love her eventually. I think he hopes we have a third son to have a career in the church. I would not mind that, but I hope I have a daughter or two before presenting my husband another son."_

_"__I'm certain the child will be healthy either way. If I ever have another daughter, I will name her Maria __after the Holy Virgin in thanks for another child. If I have a son, I will call him Johann Adolf, after my patient husband and the first Duke of Cleves."_

* * *

After nine years of marriage, Elizabeth fell ill with a fever after a walk in the gardens. Like her younger sister Katherine, she was fond of gardens and the Duke had thoughtfully ordered the gardeners to create a garden in the English style as a birthday gift to her.

Needless to say, "Duchess Elisabeth's Garden," as called by the Duke and the courtiers, was Elizabeth's favourite garden and sanctuary. Surprisingly accurate to one of the gardens in Richmond Palace, Elizabeth often sought privacy in the Duchess Elisabeth's Garden and reminisced of her childhood. Her husband and Countess Anna often found her there.

A few hours after being bundled to bed, the physicians were called for.

The Duke paced anxiously outside her chambers while the Countess sat by Elizabeth's side, murmuring soothing and comforting words.

The physician – Herr Fraundenberg – emerged from Elizabeth's rooms with a grave expression. "Your Highness," he said seriously. "I bring unfortunate news. Her Highness is very ill and does not seem to have the will to recover. She is delirious and calls for God to be merciful to her as she failed in giving you an heir and only a daughter. There is nothing I can do."

The Duke stared at him, stunned. "You are a physician! Heal her! She is my wife!"

"I cannot bleed her in fear she will die of blood loss, and I cannot give her herbs as she refuses to take anything. She does not wish to live, Your Highness. The best I can do is advise you to summon a priest and speak to Her Highness yourself."

"No…I order you to heal her!"

"Your Highness, forgive my bluntness, but I cannot heal the Duchess of she refuses treatment or does not have the will to recover."

The Duke sighed and nodded. "Fetch the priest," he muttered to a servant lingering in the shadows behind him. "Tell the bishops to hold a special Mass for the Duchess to pray for her recovery. Now!" Throwing a small bag of coins at the doctor, he strode into his wife's chambers.

He could not help but wince with sadness as he saw Elizabeth's pale face and tired eyes. He remembered when she first arrived in Cleves to be his wife; a beautiful and delicate English jewel with the gift of serenity and tranquillity. He sat on the empty chair on her other side and squeezed her fragile hand gently, comparing it to a glass object.

"My lord husband…" whispered Elizabeth, her blue eyes fluttering open as she gazed into the Duke's concerned eyes. "I'm sorry…"

"You have nothing to apologise for," murmured the Duke. "You have been the perfect wife."

"I have not, lord husband. I humiliated you by not being able to bear you heirs."

"Elizabeth…how many times did I ask you to call me 'Johann'? You are my wife, not my servants or my subjects. You have given us Anna, and she is growing into a lovely flower. She will want you to be at her side when she grows up. You mustn't give up on life, Elizabeth! I will never divorce you for a son! I am happy with Anna as my only child."

"She will love it in England. All her cousins, uncles and aunts…I always hoped when she is older, she will go to England and visit them."

"Of course she will! We will all go to England when you recover!"

Elizabeth smiled at him ruefully. "Oh, lord husband! You are indeed an optimist and that is exactly what Cleves needs! Love Anna dearly, will you? She is our dear pearl."

"Of course!"

"Can you grant me one more wish, lord husband? I want you to remarry after my death to beget heirs. You will have a son and Anna will have siblings. Please do not protest, lord husband. I know you desperately need a son. Your councillors wish it too. Promise me when you have a son, you will allow Anna to marry for love." She looked earnestly into his eyes. "_Please_."

The Duke swallowed and nodded, tears appearing in his eyes. He always thought loving Elizabeth was part of his duty as a good husband, but never realised up to now how much he truly loved her. "I will," he promised, kissing her hand. "Anna will marry any man she loves – whether a king, prince, count or commoner – and I will provide her a magnificent dowry and will forever love her till my death! I swear if I die before her, I will ensure she be happy and married to the man she loves."

"Thank you." Elizabeth closed her eyes and breathed deeply. "Your love was worth more jewels than I ever own," she said softly as she felt herself slip away from life. "Thank you, lord husband…" As if she was drifting to sleep, she breathed again – her last.

* * *

**More of a fill-in chapter, but it is also Elizabeth Tudor's story which happens to introduce Anna of Cleves! Anna will definitely be in later chapters when she is no longer a baby :) **


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter VII

**June, 1522**

The journey to France was immediately halted and the court went into mourning for the late Duchess of Cleves, the King desolate with grief.

Elizabeth had accepted her marriage without a fuss but he still felt responsible for forcing her away from England. She had always been fragile and he knew it was a mistake to send her to Cleves when she could've improved her health in England surrounded by family and friends.

Even the Duke of York was shocked by Elizabeth's death and had a gloomy expression when he met with the King, Edmund and their sisters in the royal chapel.

"She was so patient," murmured Duchess Mary mournfully. "So kind and agreeable. I wish I spent more time with her before she left for Cleves."

Catherine nodded in agreement. "I too, wish I knew Elizabeth more than I hoped."

"I wish she stayed in England," mourned Henry. His siblings nodded in agreement as he snuck a glance at the uncomfortable Arthur.

"I received further news from the Duke," said Edmund quietly. "He says that it was Elizabeth's desire for their daughter Anna to visit England. He asked if it would be fine if she stays here for a short time while he mourns for Elizabeth? The letter is in more detail, but he states that he doesn't want his only daughter to suffer during a time of sadness."

"We are mourning here," Henry pointed out.

"It will be good for Anna of Cleves to meet us," said Katherine thoughtfully. "We are her maternal family and she has never seen us before. It will also give the Duke of Cleves time to mourn for Elizabeth without Anna reminding him of her. I will be glad to welcome Anna to England."

"As will I," agreed Queen Catherine.

"Very well," said Arthur, eager to meet his young German niece. "Edmund, write back to the Duke and inform him we will be glad to welcome his daughter in England and even with dear Elizabeth at God's side, our alliance will remain intact."

Edmund nodded. "Of course. You are not upset the Duke wrote to me instead of you?"

Arthur shook his head. "You always treated him more as a brother than I did. You wrote to him at least once a few months while I managed to send him and Elizabeth a few letters a year. Besides, the Duke will be expecting a letter from you, not me."

"Shall we go to Mass and pray?"

* * *

Edmund moped in his chambers, unable to eat or drink. Three days had passed since he received news of Elizabeth's death, and he had not moved on. All his siblings took her death quite hard, but by the third day, life had resumed for most of them.

Even though Henry was still shaken at Elizabeth's death, Suffolk had convinced him to visit a local tavern and to drink his troubles away. Duchess Mary was not particularly pleased at her husband's idea of a 'good time', but could not sway Henry from his decision to go to the tavern with Suffolk, who seemed to have reverted to his womanising ways after a brief period of faithfulness to his wife. Arthur had resumed his role in governing England, but had a more obvious depressed expression. Edmund wondered if Arthur would continue mourning for Elizabeth if he had the chance to.

"Edmund."

He turned and nodded as Anne entered his chambers.

"You are not teaching my royal nieces and nephew French today?" he asked. "I heard they often requested you as their permanent tutor."

"They are with the King," answered Anne. "He is telling them about the Duchess of Cleves's death and how their cousin – the Princess of Cleves – will be joining them soon. The Queen has decided to pray and I had nothing else to do. I thought you would need someone to talk to."

"How did you know I was here?"

"If I lost George or Mary, I would hide in my chambers too. I wouldn't eat, I wouldn't be able to sleep and I wouldn't stop thinking of our last conversations." She sat on the chair opposite him. "My parents had five children in total," she said quietly. "Two died in childhood. I do not remember little Thomas, but I do remember little Henry."

Edmund looked at her. "You have another brother?"

"Had. He died when I was young." Her face grew wistful as she remembered little Henry Boleyn who would gurgle in his crib and smile every time he saw her. "I was scarcely out of infanthood when I played with him and spoke to him in a childhood tongue, but I still remember him. He had our father's eyes, but my dark hair. He was so sweet, always a cheerful baby. One day, after I sat through Mass, I went to visit him in the nursery. I was only four, but when I saw him sleep too peacefully, I knew he had left us. He would always squeal in delight when I see him, but that time, he remained asleep. I knew God found it fit to take him from us. We had a funeral for him, but I was too hysterical to attend. It was the only time I cried. A day after his funeral, our father told us – mostly Mary and me because George was still a baby – to forget about him and continue studying to serve our family when we are older. Mary forgot about him within a few years, but I never did. I still remember my little brother."

Edmund patted her hand. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Sharing the tale with me. Something tells me you have kept it within you for many years. I appreciate it, truly. In truth, I hardly saw Elizabeth. We lived in the same palaces when we were children, but as she was seven years older than me, we were never educated in the same classroom. I was taught alongside Katherine and Mary, while Elizabeth was educated with Margaret and Henry. I love her as brothers should love their sisters, but it is the thought of death that frightens me."

"You are not upset about Elizabeth's death?"

"Of course I am, but all my life…people I love die. First was my mother – I was only four years old – and then my grandmother, and now Elizabeth. Between them, Sweating Sickness stole my closest companions and my loyal servants. Then again, no one can avoid death."

"Edmund!"

Anne stood up and curtsied as the King appeared.

"Lady Anne," said the King, astonished to see her there. "I did not expect to see you here…I thought you were…with your family. Can you give me a moment alone with my brother?"

"Of course, Your Majesty," said Anne, nodding and leaving Edmund's chambers.

"Your Majesty," said Edmund softly.

"'Arthur'," the King corrected him.

"Arthur…" repeated Edmund. "What are you doing here? I thought you are telling the children of Elizabeth's death and Anna of Cleves's impending arrival?"

"They took the news pretty well. I suppose it was easier for them as they hardly knew Elizabeth as much as we did. How are you feeling?"

"A little better than before."

"That's good, brother. I hope you will recover fully and join us at court shortly. I will need you in my council meetings soon, after all."

Edmund looked at him, startled. "You want me in the Privy Council?"

"Why of course! You are my brother, and as you are twenty three, it is within your right to be part of my council. I hope in a few days, you will attend the council meeting with me, Henry and Suffolk. There is also another matter I wish to discuss with you."

"Very well. What is it?"

"It regards…the succession."

Edmund sighed. "Oh Arthur! Don't tell me you are obsessed over Henry's ravings! You have a bonny son and two healthy daughters! I'm certain it won't be long before Harry has children of his own, and you will be completely satisfied! Besides, if Harry dies, I will fully support Mary as the first Queen of England in her own right. Her grandmother was Queen of Castile in her own right, and with Catherine's blood, I can see no finer female ruler of England."

"I am pleased you are so optimistic, Edmund. I am more concerned that you have not shown interest in marrying any woman at all!"

Edmund stared at him, astonished. "What?! I thought it was my duty to marry any woman you choose

for me! I've often wondered why you never mentioned any potential spouses for me!"

Arthur raised an eyebrow and laughed. "I've given you the opportunity to marry for love, Edmund! Not many princes have that privilege! Besides, England isn't as powerful as say, the Holy Roman Empire, and not many princesses will be keen on marrying the third son of the late king of England! Come now, little brother! Have you felt any slight affection for any woman?"

Edmund hesitated.

He had never formed a romantic attachment to any noblewoman like Henry did before, but he interacted quite frequently with Lady Anne Boleyn…

"No," he said finally, dismissing his slight affection for Anne as only friendship. Besides, Arthur wouldn't be pleased to hear he holds affection for the sister of Henry's current mistress! "I suppose I always thought you would choose a wife for me…if you wish, I can start looking for a suitable-"

"No, no, no," said Arthur at once. "Take your time – not too long, alright? I hope to see more legitimate Tudor nieces and nephews in the future. I hoped Henry could marry a Portuguese Infanta for an Anglo-Portuguese alliance, but he does not seem interested, and the Portuguese will not be pleased if he shuns one of their princesses for his mistress." He scowled. "That would be a diplomatic mess I will not wish to be involved in." He smiled again as he looked at Edmund. "Marry for love," he advised. "I married Catherine politically, but I love her with all my heart. Elizabeth married the Duke of Cleves for religious peace, and they were in love. Mary married Suffolk in secret but it was out of love. Henry…well, Henry will always be Henry! I want to see you happily married, and you have the opportunity now before Wolsey presents me with a potential match for you."

"You are the king, not Wolsey," said Edmund, without thinking.

Arthur chuckled. "A king needs good councillors and advisors. I know nobles call Wolsey the butcher's son, but he is hard working, efficient and loyal. If you were king, you would see Wolsey in a different light, I can assure you of that."

"I will take your word for it. Will you be angry if I choose a commoner to be my wife?"

Arthur frowned slightly. "_Are_ you in love with a commoner? Exactly how um, common is she?"

"She is not an illiterate peasant," Edmund reassured him. "I just…I do not wish to earn your displeasure if I choose a woman you deem unfit for a prince."

Arthur's expression relaxed. "Do not fear about that, little brother! I'm certain you will find the right woman in no time! Once you feel comfortable presenting her to me as a potential wife, I will be more than willing to converse with her."

"Thank you."

Arthur nodded and turned to leave. He looked at Anne who had waited patiently outside.

"What is your opinion on Henry marrying your sister?" he asked her suddenly.

"My opinion?" repeated Anne dumbly. "Mary is already married!"

"I am tired of him having affairs and leaving bastards," he muttered, more to himself than to her. "Oh, why can't he just settle down and marry and sire legitimate children? Father would turn in his grave if he hears about this! He would never dream of siring bastards!"

"Your Majesty?" said Anne timidly. "Mary is already married."

The King looked at her. "Her marriage with Carey can be annulled." He nodded at her before striding away, leaving Anne staring after him in shock.

* * *

Unfortunately for Anne, Wiltshire had already somehow gotten wind of the King's idea of annulling Mary's marriage to William Carey.

Along with George and Mary, she was summoned to his chambers, the Duke of Norfolk already sitting comfortably beside Wiltshire.

"Fortune has smiled upon us again," Wiltshire announced after his three children bowed to him and Norfolk. "I heard from my spies that the King is uncomfortable with the Duke of York siring bastards and wishes to have legitimate nieces and nephews. Apparently, the King is entertaining the notion of his brother, the Duke of York, to marry Mary! Of course she is married to William Carey, but with an ample sum, titles and order from the King, he can be easily ah, convinced, to agree to an annulment. I've spoken to Lord Norfolk-" He nodded at his brother-in-law. "-and he informed me that only a select few were aware of the King's plans."

"How did your spies hear of it?" Anne could not resist saying.

"They have their ways," Norfolk answered slyly. "Your father is right – fortune has smiled upon us once again. With Mary as the Duchess of York, she will give her husband heirs; Boleyn-Tudor sons. In winter, the Prince of Wales can mysteriously die from an unknown illness, and the Duke of York will be the King's heir, as it is his right. Of course the Queen will argue against it, but as the Duke's future in-laws, we will support him as heir to the throne."

"The Queen has powerful relatives," Anne pointed out. "I'd rather support the Queen's eldest daughter as the future Queen of England in her own right rather than England to be nothing but a colony for the Holy Roman Empire."

"Silence!" snapped Wiltshire. "You are a Boleyn and you _will _support your sister in being the Duke of York's wife! George! Will you willingly support Mary in her destiny to be duchess of York?"

"Of course," said George uncertainly. "She is my sister, and Boleyns support one another in peace and strife. You told us that when we were young, Father."

Wiltshire nodded approvingly. "Excellent. I wish Anne has more common sense like you."

"I'm certain Anne has her own qualities."

"Hmmph. More like disobedience with no family loyalty."

"Is there anything you wish for us to do, Father?"

"I want you to charm the royal princesses."

George looked taken back. "Pardon, Father? Charm the um, royal princesses?"

Wiltshire nodded. "With the princesses – Her Grace, the Duchess of Suffolk and Princess Katherine – charmed, they will not refuse anything for you – including siding with the Duke of York if he is eager to marry Mary. Mary, you must convince the Duke of York that you are fertile and capable of giving him healthy sons, and you must assure him you did not tarnish your reputation in France, nor have you slept with Carey apart from your wedding day. If you happen to fall pregnant, the child must be the Duke's and no one else's. If the King doubts your child as a true Tudor, the Duke will have his doubts and you will be discarded for a more…virtuous bride for the Duke. Anne, you have the Queen's confidence and you teach her children French. I'm certain you can influence them from your position."

"The rewards will be limitless," added Norfolk. "Our family will rise higher than ever before, and we will wield significant power at court, with Mary as the Duchess consort of York, and George married to the richest heiress England can possibly offer."

"What about me?" said Anne, slightly hurt she was left out.

Norfolk looked at her. "You will be lady-in-waiting to your sister," he said decidedly while Wiltshire nodded in agreement. "If luck holds, you will be married to one of the King's wealthy cousins, preferably Lord Devon. If you dare ruin Mary's prospects in becoming the Duchess of York, I will personally send you far away into a nunnery."

* * *

"No." Catherine's lips tightened angrily. "It is a foolish thought, and it was even more foolish of you to mention it to Lady Anne!"

"It will end Henry's womanising days," Arthur protested tiredly. "He would be married to the woman he loves, and will produce trueborn children!"

"Henry does not love Lady Carey! He lusts for her!"

"Cat!"

"It is the truth! Your sister Mary, often told me about Suffolk's womanising ways and she is confident that Henry only lusts after women, never loving them as he proclaims. If Henry marries Lady Carey, her family – the Boleyns – will rise at court! Do you honestly want that?!"

"Lord Wiltshire is loyal and an excellent diplomat-"

"He is a snake like all the other nobles when it comes to ambitions! What do you think will happen after Henry marries Lady Carey?! What if Lord Norfolk wishes for his heir to marry one of our daughters?! Will you agree on grounds that he is loyal to you?! He may be reliable, but he will view his son's marriage to one of our daughters as a success to his ambitions, and he will only want more! What next? To break the alliance with France for our son to marry his daughter?" She hissed like an angry cat before ranting on, "I rather die than see my son married to a Howard girl!"

"Catherine, be reasonable-"

"Our children are destined to marry kings and princesses, not English noblewomen! If you want Henry to wed a noblewoman, why a Boleyn?! There are much more noble ladies at court like the Nevilles, Percys, Talbots and Hastings!"

"Catherine, please! It is only a suggestion! As you are clearly against the idea, I will not mention it ever again! I will not think about it either!"

Catherine calmed down and nodded. "Good," she muttered. "I want Lady Carey banished from my household. I will not have Henry's whores in my household."

Arthur sighed. "Henry will not be pleased."

"You want me shamed by my ladies?"

"That will never happen, my Cat! I will never let a lady shame you! Give Lady Carey another chance, for me, Cat. I do not want a feud in our family over a woman. Especially one such as Lady Carey." He kissed her hand. "Keep Lady Carey in your household. For me?"

"Very well," sighed Catherine, grimacing at the thought of Lady Carey remaining in her household. "Do you think she is with child yet?"

"Henry has not mentioned anything. If she was pregnant, he would be strutting around court like a peacock! I will be horrified if there will be another one of his bastards in my court. At least Henry FitzTudor is still young. Once he reaches his majority, Henry will expect me to welcome FitzTudor at court as if he is my legitimate nephew. I am dreading that day."

"You _must_ let that go, lord husband."

"How can I?" Arthur stalked around Catherine's chambers impatiently. "I will never forgive Henry for fathering that boy! How can I keep the royal treasury in ample supply, if Henry keeps requesting gold to please his mistresses, and apparently bastards too now!"

"FitzTudor is only a boy…"

"You loathe Lady Carey. Why are you protecting FitzTudor? It won't be long before she gives birth to another bastard. I wonder if Carey will accept the child as his own. One FitzTudor is enough; I will not have more – not even one – FitzTudors lurking at court."

"You must stop hating your illegitimate nephew."

"My father-"

"He has a bastard!"

Arthur stared at her, astonished. "What?"

"Your father…" said Catherine slowly. "He has a bastard – Sir Roland de Velville. I was informed that the late King Henry had fallen in love with a Breton lady during his time in Brittany. It was a spur of the moment, and she gave birth to Roland. He took him back to England, but I doubt you met him. Your father wanted to be seen as differently from the Yorkist kings as possible, and wanted England to see him as a faithful husband and an honourable man."

"My father…had a child out of wedlock?" said Arthur softly.

Catherine nodded. "You can ask the Breton ambassador – discreetly of course – if you do not believe me, lord husband. You have an illegitimate half-brother."

"I must meet him…"

"He is a Breton now, Arthur."

Arthur swallowed and said shakily, "I suppose I have been too harsh on Henry FitzTudor. Even though he is illegitimate, he is still my nephew by blood. How old is he now?"

"Three years old."

"I will summon him – and Meg of York – to court, and they will be educated alongside our children at once. I will not apologise to Henry – he should be grateful I decided to accept his bastard in the royal schoolroom earlier than I anticipated."

"A wise decision, lord husband."

Arthur smiled and embraced Catherine lovingly. After they broke apart, he murmured a few quiet words

and departed, no doubt to be alone in his thoughts as he often did at least once a day.

With a relieved sigh, Catherine resumed her sewing.

"Did he believe you, Your Majesty?"

The Breton ambassador – Jean de Brosse – bowed at her after entering her chambers. He smiled as Catherine discreetly handed him a bag of coins.

"He was shocked," she answered calmly. "I suppose that is what you get after believing your father to be a faithful man who sired no bastards. No doubt the late King Henry had a bastard or two before he became king, but that does not concern me. Now that my husband believes he has a bastard half-brother, he will stop preaching about the family honour and forget his petty argument with the Duke of York. I rather they be brothers and friends rather than enemies. I hope we will not ever have to discuss this conversation ever again."

Jean de Brosse nodded and bowed again. "As you wish, Your Majesty."

* * *

**I admit, Catherine is OOC in the last section, but she plots too. I have a faint idea where to go, but at the moment, I'm a little stuck, so ideas please! :) **


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter VIII

**July, 1522**

The tall candles flickered as Maria de Salinas, Lady Willoughby, gently brushed Catherine's hair while the other ladies played cards and chattered softly in their mistress's main chambers.

"Shall I go and dismiss them?" Maria asked.

Catherine shook her head. "Their talk does not distract me, dear Maria. The English love to chatter and gossip amongst themselves. Are you ailing, Maria? You seem distracted."

"It is nothing, Your Majesty. I cannot help but wonder why the Breton ambassador was here a few days ago. I did not know England was planning a treaty with Brittany."

"You are my most trusted friend, Maria." She lowered her voice. "My husband is an honourable man – too honourable. His hatred for young FitzTudor could not go on. All you must know is that the Breton ambassador and I came to an agreement that will greatly benefit my family. My husband will no longer hate the idea of a bastard nephew and hopefully his relationship with Henry will improve, especially when young FitzTudor comes to court."

"I thought you were afraid the King will select the Duke of York as his heir after the Prince of Wales, instead of your daughters?"

"Ah, Henry will always be a womaniser his entire life. Even if he marries a commoner he is suddenly infatuated with, that will not stop him having affairs with other women. Arthur hates that, which creates a rift between them. If they keep arguing, Henry will always hate being the second son and the prospect of serving my Harry if Arthur dies. If Henry and Arthur cease arguing, Henry will not entertain the thought of asserting his right over my daughters for much longer. Of course he will keep wishing he is king, but if Arthur does not give him an excuse to hate him, he will plot less against my children."

"The Duke of York plots against your children, Your Majesty?!"

Catherine laughed harshly. "He thinks I am not aware of it, but I know everything. He hates the French, but he is always eager and wishing for England to embrace Salic Law. As long as I live, Salic Law will never enter England, and my daughters will not be disinherited for my spoilt brother-in-law."

"What will you do, my lady?"

"I will protect my children of course. Edmund is like Arthur and will be loyal to my children. The Dowager Queen of Scots and Henry never had a particularly good relationship, and she will most likely support my children. I am certain that if Elizabeth lived, she will also side with my children. Honour and loyalty had been installed into Katherine since she was a child, and she will never plot against my children, but for Mary…I am not sure."

"Your Majesty, Her Grace of Suffolk loves you as a sister, and she always loves your children! She will never plot against them!"

"Yes, but she is Henry's favourite sister and married to his best friend. Suffolk will be a fool to side with Henry, but he had always been a foolish man."

"Indeed, Your Majesty."

Catherine was silent for a moment before changing the subject. "How is your daughter?"

Maria brightened considerably. "She is well," she replied. "My husband is disappointed I could only give him one surviving daughter, but I am proud of our dear little Catharine Willoughby. I am also honoured and extremely grateful His Majesty decided to name his latest ship after me."

Catherine smiled as she remembered being presented to Arthur's newest warship, 'HMS Mary Willoughby'. Arthur had always been fond of Maria and was so delighted in Maria's marriage to William Willoughby, 11th Baron Willoughby de Eresby, that he gifted the couple with Grimsthorpe Castle as a wedding present. Catherine was confident that within a few years, she and Maria – with Arthur's consent and Lord Willoughby's agreement – would find young Lady Catharine Willoughby a suitable husband of noble rank and wealth.

"I think I will retire," murmured Catherine. "If the King comes, inform him I have retired early. I know I can trust you, Maria."

Maria nodded, curtsied and left. Her content expression vanished once she heard the insolent Lady Carey's latest boasts. "I will bear the Duke many children," the foolish woman was saying. "As his dearest sweetheart, he will acknowledge them all and convince the King to give them titles and land once they reach their majority – even the girls. Who knows? Maybe our sons will marry the richest heiresses and or daughters marry into the noblest families!"

The other ladies murmured and laughed as they listened.

"Will the Duke marry you?" another lady – probably a Shelton girl – asked her.

Maria appeared in front of them, her arms crossed. "I hope you have not been neglecting the shirts for the poor," she said icily, glancing at the pile of unfinished shirts in the middle of the ladies' circle. "The Queen expects them finished tonight so she can deliver them to convents and to the poor tomorrow morning after Mass." Her sharp eyes swept across the room and she noticed only a portion of ladies – her fellow Spaniards that remained in England, a small pallid girl with mousy hair hidden under a gable hood, Lady Salisbury, Lady Parr and other ladies absolutely loyal to the Queen – sewing shirts quietly. She frowned as she noticed Lady Carey wearing a wantonly gown.

"There are plenty of shirts made already," said Lady Carey carelessly, waving her hand and flashing at least two jewelled rings. "We sew shirts for the poor everyday. I'm certain the Queen can forgive us for neglecting our duties to the poor for one day."

You haven not sewed a single shirt for weeks, thought Maria, but she said to her, "Of course. However, the Queen will still be informed of your idleness."

She approached the mousy haired girl who sat a short distance away from the other ladies. "I believe we have not met," she said kindly. "Who are you?"

The girl jumped up, frightened, and curtsied clumsily.

"I am Mistress Jane Seymour, my lady Willoughby," she said so softly that Maria had to strain her ears to hear. "My parents are Sir John Seymour and Margery Wentworth and my brother Sir Edward Seymour, serves the Duchess of Suffolk when she was Queen of France and is now part of the Duke of York's household. I was accepted as one of the Queen's maids-of-honour only recently."

Maria nodded, pleased at Mistress Jane Seymour's demure nature and devotion to the Queen. She was only a knight's daughter, but is clearly worthy to be maid-of-honour to the Queen.

"I am honoured to meet you, Mistress Jane," said Maria, smiling at her. "I'm certain the Queen will be pleased to hear of your good works too."

* * *

In the middle of autumn, the English party arrived in France, the majority of them groggy and tired from the turbulent sea voyage.

They were welcomed into Château de Chambord where the Duke of York and Princess Katherine were escorted into King Francis's chambers for a private lunch with his intelligent sister, Marguerite, Duchess of Alençon. Francis was kind to his guests, and often called them his 'brother' and 'sister'.

Henry too, addressed his hosts in the most amicable manner and they chatted about their lives in France and England before the conversation turned to the political alliance.

"I too, am eager for peace between our great nations," said Francis, sipping his wine. "However, I do not understand why your brother, the King of England, does not come to England himself!"

"His children are ill," Henry lied smoothly. "As a father yourself, I believe you can understand and forgive His Majesty of England for being unable to be here and sending me in his stead."

Francis nodded. "_Oui_. My own daughters are raised in the Loire Valley region as it is warmer and sunnier than Paris and other parts of France. You should advise the King of England to have his children raised in a warm region of England if they are ill."

"I will, brother, I will."

"Excellent. You have not remarried after you wife died?"

"No. I could not find the right princess and my own daughter needs a mother. I suppose I will marry soon enough. Anyway, I am here to discuss a match between one of your daughters and the Prince of Wales, not to talk about myself."

"How loyal of you to your King, Monsieur le Duc! I applaud you! Is the agreement I made with your king four months ago still in motion?"

"Of course. I am here to sign it on his behalf."

"What of your sister, the beautiful Princess Katherine? Will you find her a handsome and rich French husband?" He winked roguishly before Marguerite shot him a glare. "It is odd how she is still unmarried and unbetrothed," he added. "Does your king intend on keeping your sister as a spinster for the rest of her life? Be a good brother and marry her off! She will be happier with children of her own."

"Princess Katherine is here to represent my dear sister-in-law, the Queen."

"Ah! She must be with her ill children, is she not? Will you choose a French princess for your son, or will you ask your ambassador to decide for you?"

"I wish to look at the portraits of your daughters," Katherine spoke to Henry's irritation. He had wanted the meeting with Francis and Marguerite to end as quickly as possible – after all; Mary Carey was waiting for him in his chambers.

"Perhaps later?" Henry suggested. "We can trust Lord Wiltshire-"

"I wish to see the portraits," Katherine interrupted, having no intentions of trusting the decision of choosing Harry's bride on Wiltshire. She stared expressionlessly at the French king, annoyed at what he said about her to Henry a few minutes earlier.

"As Her Highness commands." Francis smiled beguilingly at her before unravelling a piece of cloth and revealing three portraits. The first was of a beautiful child of six with greenish blue eyes and red hair. She wore a light red snood embroidered with silver and a black gown with yellow sleeves. She had a pleasant and rather content expression similar to that of the second child that was an infant of two with dark brown hair hidden under a pink snood that matched her pink dress. The third – to Katherine's surprise – was a portrait of a boy of four.

"The Dauphin François?" said Katherine, looking questioningly at Francis.

"We are rather short on princesses," answered Francis. "I thought it would be an excellent idea to betroth my heir to one of your royal nieces. I believe the Princess Mary is six years old, while Princess Cecily is four?"

"Indeed. However, the King is more keen for us to bring him back a daughter-in-law."

"Oh? You do not want one of your nieces to be the future Queen of France and Duchess of Brittany? I do not think your king will be pleased at the prospect of my son marrying…let's say, a Scottish princess, now will he?" He chuckled to himself.

"The Princess Mary is betrothed," said Henry steadily. "She is to marry the Holy Roman Emperor once she reaches the age of fourteen."

Francis's expression distorted into rage. "_Je ne peux pas le croire!_ _C'est un scandale!_ You treat with my enemies behind my back?! Your king rather sees his daughter as Holy Roman Empress than Queen of France?! Ah, your king does not think my son is worthy-"

"His Majesty of England is only interested in peace, Your Majesty," Katherine cut in smoothly. "He does not deliberately plan alliances with your enemies."

"The Holy Roman Emperor!" spat Francis. "Your king wishes to be more friendly with Spain than with France! I will not have it!"

"If His Majesty of England wishes to be Spain's strongest ally, he would've agreed to invade France at least a month ago!" Katherine snapped. "Our king does not care for war; he is a man of peace and seeks friendship with _every _ruler."

"My brother does not mean to be rude, Your Highness," Marguerite assured her, silencing Francis with another glare. "He is merely cautious. I understand your concern that there is only two princesses of France you can choose from, but I offer you – with my brother's consent – any princess of the blood with the same dowry a daughter of France will offer."

Henry's eyebrows rose. "You want to offer a noblewoman?"

"_Non_, _non_," said Marguerite quickly. "Not any noblewomen! Royal princesses of the blood! Princess Marie de Bourbon and Princess Marie de Guise are the same age as Charlotte-"

"I will leave the decision to my ambassador," Henry interrupted, tired of the discussion.

"Of course," said Francis with mock politeness. "I will have a servant take you to your chambers. Shall we see you at supper? A feast is being prepared in your honour."

"Of course we will attend, Your Majesty," Katherine answered. "It will be discourteous if we do not attend. Besides, I heard French feasts are the most spectacular in all of Christendom."

"How kind of you," said Marguerite, smiling at her. "Francis, I will take Princess Katherine to her chambers myself. England has always fascinated me and I would like to hear more about it, and who better than from a princess of England?"

Francis smiled indulgently. "Very well. My dear English brother! Why don't I take you to your rooms? I would _love_ to hear about the beautiful Queen of England…"

* * *

Edmund moped in his study, wishing he had something to do. There was a feast to celebrate the royal children's safe recovery, but he was not in the mood for feasting.

"You should stop moping."

Duchess Mary stepped into his study and looked at him critically. "Some people may say you are not celebrating because you did not wish for the King's children to recover. I recognise that expression anywhere. Who broke your heart? I'm surprised you even loved someone, judging by your usual blank expressions. Who is the lady in question? Shall I berate her for breaking your heart, or shall I command her to apologise to you?"

Edmund looked at her. "Who said a lady broke my heart?"

"Oh please, dear brother. I looked like you when I was told to marry that old King of France. Did you know that after he died, Arthur had already began negotiations for my second marriage with either Ferdinand of Naples, Duke of Calabria or Maximilian Sforza, Duke of Milan? I had the same expression as you do now when I realised the slim chance I have at marrying the one I love. Even though Arthur promised I could marry anyone I wished if I happen to outlive King Louis, I knew he would not keep his word. He is the king, and I am one of his pawns. The man I marry ensures peace with England and I am the bridge between England and my husband's kingdom. I could not bear being married to an old man again and took the initiative to marry Charles."

Edmund smiled at her. "When did you get so wise, dear sister?"

The Duchess shrugged. "I guess I gain wisdom as I grow older."

"True. You think I should go to the feast?"

"Indeed you should! The King and Queen are both in a jolly mood, as are the other courtiers! The royal children are also there! They will love to see their uncle Edmund." She grinned at him. "Besides, I'd love to introduce you to a few friends of mine. Noble ladies of course. Will you be interested? They may be able to wipe that heartbroken expression from your face!"

He laughed. "Oh very well! You convinced me! I will go to the feast!"

After quickly changing into a more decorated attire, Edmund walked with Duchess Mary into the feasting hall. Before they reached the doors, he heard loud music and jovial laughter.

"You are with child?" he said, noticing his sister's condition for the first time.

"That lady must've broken your heart greatly," Duchess Mary remarked. "I've been pregnant for quite some time and you have just noticed! Not as observant as you once was, brother. Once I find out who this woman is, mark my words, I will make her suffer!"

Edmund laughed uneasily. "Do you regret your marriage to Charles?"

Mary shrugged. "I loved him and I love him still. Even though he is still a womaniser, gambler and a heavy drinker at times, he is a good father to our children and loyal to the King. I will never regret my marriage to Charles. As his wife, I can live in England. I rather tolerate his unfaithfulness than to be a queen and see my husband's mistresses prance around court, their stomachs bulging with bastards. Catherine is fortunate that Arthur is a faithful husband."

The guards opened the door and the two walked in.

From the high table, Arthur met Edmund's eyes and he raised his goblet. Edmund nodded back, smiling slightly at his brother.

"Come," said Duchess Mary, beckoning Edmund to a group of ladies chatting nearby. "These are my companions and friends: Lady Elizabeth Somerset, Lady Elizabeth FitzGerald (née Grey), Countess of Kildare, Lady Isabel Plumpton (née Neville), Lady Mary Somerset, Lady Elizabeth Bourchier, Lady Elizabeth de Vere, Lady Dorothy Neville (née de Vere), Baroness Latimer, Lady Elizabeth Talbot, Lady Margaret Clifford (née Percy), Countess of Cumberland and Lady Joan FitzGerald. Ladies, I believe you all know my dear brother, the Duke of Somerset." She smiled as her friends stood up and curtsied politely to Edmund, who nodded at them with a kind smile. Mary was aware that the majority of her lady companions were unmarried – some were betrothed though – but was confident that Edmund would fall in love with one of them. After all, the ladies selected were all of the finest families with noble blood in their veins and fathers who would be willing to supply large dowries, and Edmund was a heartbroken prince. Besides, he was a Tudor, and she was confident Tudors find love easily.

"Ladies," acknowledged Edmund. "An honour to meet my sister's friends."

"Your Royal Highness," the ladies said in unison. "It is an honour to meet you to, my lord."

"Edmund, go dance with Lady Joan FitzGerald," Mary instructed. "Then you will have the honour of dancing with Lady Elizabeth de Vere."

Obediently, Edmund led Catherine Butler into a dance while Mary sat back with the other ladies and watched with satisfaction.

"Are you planning to betroth your brother to a noble lady?" Queen Catherine gracefully slid on the seat beside her. With a wave of her hand, she dismissed Mary's lady companions. "I see you have decided for Edmund to dance with Lady Joan FitzGerald," she commented casually. "A beautiful lady. Quite intelligent and accomplished. Good choice."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," answered Duchess Mary. "Lady Joan is one of Lord Kildare's daughters, and as Lord Kildare is the premier peer of Ireland, I thought if Edmund happens to fall in love with her…it will strengthen Ireland to England."

Catherine nodded in agreement. "Very good, Your Grace. Irish lords tend to revolt against English authority, and if Edmund marries the daughter of the premier Irish peer, their revolts may cease for a good many years. What if Edmund does not fall for Lady Joan's charms? Will you put another Irish lady under his nose, like Lady Catherine Butler?"

"I did not think that much ahead. If Edmund does not like Lady Joan, I will arrange a fine match for her – with your permission of course – and suggest Lady Elizabeth de Vere. If I put forward Lady Catherine Butler, the FitzGeralds will have war against the Butlers for some petty reason as they did in the past, and that is not what England wants or needs."

"True. Why Lady Elizabeth de Vere?"

"Her half-brother is the Earl of Oxford and holds great assets and wealth – especially in East Anglia. She is a sweet lady and a perfect candidate to be Edmund's wife."

"Why not a Howard girl? The Duke of Norfolk is one of the most powerful nobles in England."

Mary wrinkled her nose as she remembered Norfolk suggesting a match between his daughter Mary Howard and her eldest son Arthur Brandon a few years ago. Despite Charles's protests of considering the match, Duchess Mary outrightly refused to accept it.

Catherine laughed. "I know how you feel about those Howards. It is not surprising that Norfolk is trying to win favour with the King."

Mary nodded. "He will never stop until his ambitions are satisfied."

"Do you think Edmund is happy with Joan FitzGerald?"

"Will the King accept a FitzGerald lady as his sister-in-law? Do you think she is of high enough status to be acknowledged as a member of our family?"

"Well, Lady Joan is the daughter of a prominent Irish Earl and has plenty of noble blood. The FitzGeralds have married many other prominent Irish lords and ladies, and I'm certain Lady Joan has not only FitzGerald blood in her veins, but also de Burgh and Butler blood. I think Lady Joan is a fitting choice to be future Duchess of Somerset if Edmund does not wish to pursue marriage with a princess. Of course the FitzGeralds will have to have some titles and estates I suppose."

"Would that not alienate the King from the English nobles? They will not be pleased that an Irish lady is chosen to be Edmund's wife rather than their own daughters."

"That is true. It is up to Edmund. As his sister by law, I will respect his decisions regarding his future wife and stand by his choice. Of course I will be happier if Edmund marries a princess as he should, but not many princesses are willing to marry a late king's third son."

Mary nodded again. "If there were legitimate Beauforts alive now, do you think my father would've arranged for Edmund to marry one?"

"I do not think so," said Catherine thoughtfully. "He will want to secure his throne through political

matches with other kingdoms. Either Edmund or Henry would be a prince of the church while the other marries and has heirs. However, if your grandmother wished for Edmund to marry a Beaufort cousin, your father would agree to it – though the Beauforts would have to pay an ample dowry."

"Do you think Edmund will ever get married?"

Catherine looked at her, surprised. "You don't think he will?"

"Edmund and Arthur are so alike, except Arthur is married to you and has children, while Edmund remains unmarried and uninterested in the idea of marriage!"

"Arthur had no choice but to marry me – it was part of the treaty my parents signed with your father many years ago. Edmund was never betrothed seriously and he has the rare option of marrying for love unless Arthur arranges a match for him."

"Princes are lucky."

"In some cases, yes. I know you still harbour feelings of hatred towards Arthur for forcing you to marry the old king of France, but he was young back then and-"

"It was Wolsey's doing!" said Mary furiously. "I'm not angry at Arthur! Not even Wolsey as much as I was before! It's just…" She sighed sadly. "I feel disgusted. And violated. Even now, I am afraid when Charles wants us to make love again. I love Charles, but I cannot satisfy him in…that way. When old Louis…I'm sorry, I cannot tell you this. You are a Queen! I was so happy when I had our daughter – dear little Marie – but could not look at her without thinking of Louis. After my period of mourning was over, I chose to leave Marie behind. Not because I despise her or am a terrible mother, but knew she belonged in France. It also helps me forget about my time in France as queen. I do not know why so many princesses wish to be queen. I am more content the wife of a nobleman than queen consort and always will be."

* * *

**Sorry for the wait - dratted writer's block again :( More Edmund and Anne scenes and possibly even George and Katherine scenes in the next chapter :) **


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter IX

**January, 1523 **

Guilt jabbed Anne's heart as she saw the Queen's content expression morph into one of dismay as she saw the little French princess for the first time.

Anne remembered her father's scheming and boasts during their time in France, and she was ashamed to be witness to it. She remembered the chosen princess – Charlotte de Valois – from her time in France, and was utterly embarrassed that she didn't inform the Queen of Princess Charlotte's poor health when she had the chance to.

"She does not look like she can survive an English winter," Mary Carey whispered into Anne's ear for the third time as they sunk into curtsies. "Do you think Father is right in me having a chance to be future Queen of England with my sons the next kings?"

"Hold your tongue!" hissed Anne through gritted teeth. "You speak bloody treason no matter if Father is right or wrong!"

Mary's lips tightened but she said nothing.

Anne fervently wished Mary had the brains – and means – to escape their father's verbal abuse and constant plotting. It had only gotten worse now that their uncle Norfolk was fully 'invested' in their affairs and was just as disagreeable and demanding as their father.

"Presenting Their Royal Highnesses, Prince Henri de Valois, Duke of Orléans and Princess Charlotte de Valois!" announced Wiltshire arrogantly.

"Thank you, Lord Wiltshire," said the King warmly, his facial expression plain with no signs of disappointment or joy as his daughter-in-law was presented to him along with the sour-faced young Duke of Orléans. He knelt down and looked at the Valois siblings in the eye. "Hello," he said gently. "Henri and Charlotte is it? Are you pleased to be in England?"

"_Non_!" said the four year old Henri hotly. "I want to go home!"

Anne exchanged uneasy looks with her sister. From what their father told them during their journey from France to England, the French king was obliged to give his second son to the King of England as a ward as a sign of good faith and in return, England will not invade in the duration of twelve years (by the end of it, the Duke of Orléans will be returned to France) and will not pursue an alliance with the Holy Roman Empire or Spain.

"You will soon," said the King soothingly. "You will stay here for quite some time. Wouldn't that be exciting? What about you, Charlotte?"

Small in stature with abundant reddish hair covered by a French hood and with darting greenish-blue eyes, the seven year old Princess cowered as the King looked at her.

"I am married," she whispered in almost pitiful, broken English. "To the…Prince of Wales."

The King turned to the Queen and she nodded, motioning for Anne to approach the terrified Princess and suspicious Prince.

Anne approached the Valois siblings and said softly, "Do you remember me, Your Highness?"

Charlotte's eyes lit up to a brilliant shade of emerald. "Mademoiselle Boleyn!" she said, her pallid cheeks brightening extensively.

Alert by his sister's sudden enthusiasm, Henri smiled at Anne. He is a protective brother, she thought as she smiled back. He has been told England is enemy territory, and like any chivalrous knight, he will protect his sister from anyone.

Encouraged by his mother, the Prince of Wales stepped forward and kissed Charlotte's hand, the Princess blushing a little.

"_Madame la princess_," he said kindly in perfect French. "_Ça me fait plaisir de te revoir_."

Charlotte smiled as she recognised her betrothed. She was told by her father that in England, everyone would already assume she was married to the Prince of Wales, but in truth, they will remain betrothed until her eighth birthday when they will be married with grand festivities to celebrate. Her father was also confident that when she turns fifteen, they will be wed again, this time consummating their union when she will be impregnated with the future Tudor heir.

"_Merci, Monsieur le Prince_," Charlotte said, grateful the Prince chose to speak French for her sake. She was also told – this time by her grandmother, Louise of Savoy – that some princes are not kind to their wives and will generally ignore them until the time is needed for heirs to be produced. Charlotte was fortunate the Prince of Wales was not that type of prince.

The King straightened up and nodded politely at the French ambassador, Monsieur Antoine de Castelnau. "Your Excellency," he acknowledged. "A pleasant journey I hope?"

"Not bad," answered Castelnau mildly. "An uneventful journey, but at least the Duke of Orléans and Princess Charlotte arrived here safely. I beg your pardon for my rudeness, but I must write to Their Majesties of France. They are both – especially the Queen – concerned for their children, and as the ambassador of France, it is my duty to assure them the Duke and Princess are both well, healthy and above all, safe from harm."

The King nodded. "Of course, of course."

Castelnau bowed and stalked away, most likely to his ambassadorial quarters. The King left his new French wards in the Duchess of Suffolk's capable hands and returned to the Queen, Anne trailing behind him with the other lords and ladies at a respective pace.

"The Duchess will introduce them to her children shortly," the King murmured to his wife. "Tonight, we will introduce them to our children. I thought it would be best to postpone the feast until tomorrow for them to settle in. To be frank, I am astonished at Wiltshire's choice. He spoke a great deal of words about Charlotte's 'blooming health', but all I see is a small child who does not seem to have the strength to last through winter! Was Wiltshire lying or is it King Francis's fault? Did he give us the wrong princess as some soft of humiliating joke?"

"That is not possible," Anne heard the Queen murmur back. "Lady Anne informed me that the Princess Charlotte was chosen on the grounds she is closest in age to Harry. Children grow. Perhaps God will answer our prayers and bless Charlotte with robustness. It is a little early, but I am slightly concerned by her ability to bear Harry children."

"Oh Catherine! I am not disappointed you only gave me three children! Besides, you do not need to concern yourself with the succession. I have two brothers, remember?"

"What if Harry dies? Who will succeed him? Mary or your brother Henry?"

The King stopped in his tracks, Anne almost colliding into him.

"There will be a feast in the great hall this afternoon," he announced to the train of courtiers – the majority English with a small selection of French – behind him. "It is in honour of the Duke of Orléans and Princess Charlotte de Valois, and if you intend to attend, please prepare yourselves and join us in an hour! All courtiers are invited!"

The courtiers bowed and curtsied as the royals headed off to their chambers. Before Anne could think about the conversation she overheard, Mary Carey had grabbed her arm and said excitedly, "What will you wear to the feast?"

"My pale blue gown I suppose," said Anne placidly. "I wanted to wear my new purple one but the Queen is wearing purple…"

"Wear the purple gown Anne! You look so lovely in purple!"

"But the Queen-"

"Everyone knows the King will remain faithful to her! Even if you are ten times more beautiful than the Queen, he will never be tempted to take a mistress. I think he is more terrified than honourable to take a mistress. Henry has asked me to wear my cream coloured gown. He says I look like a shining sun in it." She beamed joyfully.

He allows you to call him 'Henry' now, does he? Anne thought, but she said uncertainly, "I was hoping to save the purple gown for the official feast…"

Mary shrugged. "Very well. You could always wear the red one."

"I think I will," agreed Anne. "Shall we go?" Smiles on both Boleyn girls' faces, they set off to their apartments, both ready to prepare themselves for the afternoon feast.

* * *

Almost customarily, Edmund led Anne to the first dance simultaneously to the Duke of York's first dance with Mary Carey. For some odd reason, many courtiers – with the exception of the hawk-eyed Wiltshire and foxy Norfolk – haven't noticed Anne's friendship with the Duke of Somerset and have not spread rumours of her as his potential mistress of yet. Then again, the courtiers gossiped more about the cheerful, twinkling eyed Duke of York and his host of mistresses than his serious younger brother and the topic of Mary Carey as his latest mistress remained in the top subjects of discussion in court.

"I heard interesting news today," remarked Edmund as he spun Anne around.

"Oh?" said Anne, always eager to hear new pieces of information. "What is it?"

"The King had written his will – quite detailed I believe – and what appears to be his orders regarding the royal succession."

"Are you permitted to tell me, my lord Somerset?" She winked – in her opinion – rather devilishly at the same time as seductive. She dipped and rose gracefully as they continued dancing. "It will be a shame to see you banished from court for revealing private information," she added, amused by Edmund's solemn expression. "Even though the King is your brother, I doubt he will forgive you easily for betraying his trust."

"It is a secret," confirmed Edmund. "However, the King will reveal it to the Privy Council in the next meeting and even though it is private, I will tell you anyway."

"You are willing to risk your brother's displeasure over this?"

"You are my good friend – one of my closest in fact – and I am interested in hearing your opinions about it. After all, you are one of the cleverest ladies at court."

Anne stared at him, temporarily stunned at him addressing her as one of his closest friends.

"The King has written his orders about the succession," whispered Edmund, leading Anne a little away from the other dancers. "I suppose after seeing Charlotte de Valois, he is concerned she will die leaving Harry childless. Of course there is the option of remarriage, but what if she dies from Sweating Sickness and he dies shortly after her?"

"Princess Mary will be Queen," replied Anne. Her eyes widened as she breathed, "By God…Princess Mary will be Queen of England in her own right!"

"Exactly! However, there are some that will not accept her as Queen Regnant. To prevent another devastating war, the King wrote that if the Prince of Wales were to die childless, Princess Mary would succeed him as Princess of Wales and the future Queen of England. However, she must marry an English nobleman with royal blood like the Courtenays and her children must be born and raised in England. If she too dies without issue, Princess Cecily will succeed her and she too must marry a royal-blooded English nobleman. If she also dies childless, her successor will be Henry, followed by his children, then me and my future descendants and then the Duchess of Suffolk and Katherine. Elizabeth is dead-" His voice trembled as he remembered his deceased sister. "-And Margaret is the widow of the King of Scots. Their descendants will be German and Scottish, and the King is fervent in his decision to ensure his throne remains in English hands."

"That seems quite safe. I don't think the Dowager Queen of Scots will relinquish her right to the throne so easily, or at all for a matter of fact."

"That is what I fear. Margaret always had a quick temper – quite similar to Henry's and Mary's – and is well aware of her position in the succession."

"Will the councillors accept it?"

"I suppose so. Henry will argue against it of course, but I am willing to stand by all of Arthur's decisions, including the matter of the succession. I am his subject and it is my duty to be loyal and supportive of him."

"You are willing to watch your niece succeed as Queen hypothetically?'

"Indeed. It may sound strange, but I have no ambitions to be king of England. I've watched Arthur resolve conflicts in England and abroad and his many sleepless nights about England's financial stability and economy. If God decides for Mary to be Queen of England in her own right, I will support her and advise her as I do to Arthur."

"What if the Duke of York resorts to war?"

"I will send troops against him."

His calmness sent shivers running down Anne's spine. She was aware Edmund loves his family and had less ambitions than herself, but never knew he would potentially battle against his own brother to secure a woman on the English throne.

"I've frightened you," said Edmund apologetically. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you so much about it. Please forget it. Actually, it would be best if you forget everything I just told you. It'll save you from an accusation of treason and a walk to Tower Green. I always forget you are still a woman and can be easily frightened about-"

"No, no!" Anne reassured him. "You did not frighten me! I'm not afraid of anything."

"Really? You aren't afraid of your own future?"

"Oh, I'm sure it is nothing to be frightened of. My father will marry me off to a Butler or any other powerful nobleman; I will be a wife and bear him sons. I will watch my own children grow up, marry and have offspring of their own. The future of any woman."

"You know as well as I do that that future is false. You are too clever to be bartered off for your father's purposes. If you were any ordinary woman, you would've thrown yourself at me like how your sister Lady Carey did to Henry. You would've offered to be my mistress and mother of my bastards and be pushed this way and that way as your father's pawn in his game of chess. You've decided to take the gamble and play for something bigger. Tell me, Lady Anne. Are you afraid what your gamble will lead you?"

"I'm not gambling anything."

Edmund arched an eyebrow. "Oh please, Lady Anne. Everything you do in court is a gamble. Now tell me – hopefully before this dance is over – what you fear about your future."

Anne sighed. "I don't know…spinsterhood? My father's displeasure? Being disinherited? Dying old and alone? I have not thought about it much lately."

"I have," said Edmund decidedly as the dance neared its end and Henry Percy danced closer to them with the snooty-faced Lady Mary Talbot. "Ever since I was young, I feared after I married, I would be charmed by wantonly ladies and break my vows. Now, all I want is a quiet life, marriage with the woman I love and children."

"Really? The honourable and good Duke of Somerset wishes for nothing but a quiet life in the countryside and marriage?"

Edmund flourished a bow before staring into her eyes and saying quietly, "Not marriage to _any _woman. Marriage to _one_ woman – my true love."

Anne stared at him as he whisked his way into the next dance with Mary Talbot, whose haughty expression was marred with a smug grin. Before she could contemplate Edmund's words, she found herself dancing with Henry Percy.

"It has been a while since we last danced, my lady," he remarked.

"It has," Anne managed to say. "I heard your father wants you to marry a Talbot girl."

"_That _Talbot girl." He nodded to Mary Talbot. "I heard she is a shrew." He shuddered. "Of course I do not have a say in the matter, but I had hopes of marrying another woman." His eyes lingered on her before he twirled her around.

"Oh? Who may that be, Lord Percy?"

"She is clever, beautiful and kind to all…"

"Perhaps the Queen, Lord Percy?" Anne joked. "You must know she is married to our gracious King and will be his wife until her death!"

Henry Percy laughed. "Not the Queen, my lady Anne! You of course! You are witty, lovely and have enough noble blood to rival Mary Talbot! Besides, you are now the daughter of an Earl! My father _must_ consider you worthy enough to be my wife! You too, are still unmarried, Lady Anne! Wouldn't your father be pleased at the prospect of you marrying the heir to the Northumberland earldom? He clearly changed his mind about you marrying that Butler."

Anne frowned. "I do not-"

"I'm certain a dowry can be agreed upon quickly," the lovesick Lord Henry pressed on. "Come! Let us go and ask my father now!"

Conveniently the dance ended and he led a bewildered Anne to his formidable father, the grim-faced and splendidly dressed Henry Percy, 5th Earl of Northumberland, who was in the midst of a discussion with the King's cousin and his brother-in-law, Edward Stafford, 3rd Duke of Buckingham, who is also maternally related to Anne.

"Lord Father," said Lord Henry respectfully, his eyes shining with excitement. "Your Grace."

"Lord Percy," acknowledged Buckingham. "Who is your lady friend?"

"This is Lady Anne Boleyn," said Lord Henry breathlessly as Anne curtsied politely. "She is the younger

daughter of Sir Thomas Boleyn, 1st Earl of Wiltshire and-"

"And Lady Elizabeth Howard," Buckingham finished. "My son-in-law's sister."

"So this is the infamous Lady Anne Boleyn," said Northumberland coldly. "Sister of the Duke of York's current whore. Son! I am surprised you chose to associate yourself with such people."

Anne blushed, but kept a calm exterior as Buckingham chortled.

Lord Henry flushed. "Lord Father! Lady Anne is not like her sister in any manner! She is virtuous, witty, beautiful and talented-"

"Talented in enchanting men?" Northumberland chuckled harshly. "I find it hard to believe that she is as virtuous as you described. Look at Lady Mary Talbot! She is dancing so gracefully with the Duke of Somerset! She is a woman to be proud of." He raised his goblet to Mary Talbot's father – George Talbot, 4th Earl of Shrewsbury – a short distance away and nodded courteously. "I suggest you stop wasting time with unsuitable ladies and charm the Talbot lady," he said sharply to his son. "She is to be your wife someday and you will do yourself a favour by associating yourself with her before you wed and bed her. I expect a brood of grandsons in the future."

"I am not here to discuss Lady Mary Talbot."

"Then why are you here?'

Lord Henry took a deep breath before stating strongly, "I wish to marry Lady Anne Boleyn. She is as noble as Lady Mary Talbot and is perfect to be the future Countess of Northumberland."

_Clang!_

They turned and saw wine flooding all over Edmund's feet, his goblet lying on the ground, half of it drenched with the red liquid.

"Forgive me," he said as servants hurried towards him and the other courtiers stared at him. "I was a little clumsy, forgive me." He bowed slightly before shooting Anne an accusative and hurt glare as a servant wiped his shoes.

"Oh…" said Northumberland thoughtfully. "You wish to marry Lady Anne?"

"You cannot be serious in considering it," snorted Buckingham, looking at Anne disdainfully. "Her father was nothing but a knight before he was ennobled! Your son has pure, noble blood, and you want your future descendants to be stained with-"

"Your Grace, please." Northumberland raised his hand to silence his brother-in-law. "I will never dream of seeing my descendants tainted with blood from a knight's daughter." He glanced at his son sternly. "If you intend to remain my heir and inherit my fortune and titles, you will obey my command: wipe that foolish notion of marrying Lady Anne Boleyn from your mind and never mention her name in my presence again. If you do not want Lady Mary Talbot as your wife, choose another lady of similar social standing to her by the end of a fortnight, or be prepared to welcome Lady Mary Talbot as your future wife and mother of your children. If you wish to marry Lady Eleanor Neville, younger sister of the 4th Earl of Westmorland, I will consider it. If you desire to wed a sister of the 2nd Marquess of Dorset, I will again, consider it. However, if you dare suggest marriage between yourself and another knight's daughter again, you will find yourself disinherited, penniless and on the streets."

"Lord Father!" protested Lord Henry desperately. "Lady Anne is not a knight's daughter, and besides, lady mother is the daughter of a knight-"

_Slap!_

Anne flinched as Northumberland leant closer to his son and whispered, "Do not mention your lady mother as a knight's daughter ever again. She inherited her father's fortune upon his death. What will this Anne Boleyn inherit? Nothing! This matter is over! I do not want to hear of it ever again! Now go and dance with Mary Talbot!"

Lord Henry gave Anne a desperate look before fleeing to the dance floor in search of the sour and arrogant Lady Mary Talbot.

"Lady Anne," said Northumberland shortly, before Anne could leave. "Walk with me."

Bowing to Buckingham, the two of them walked casually towards the feasting table where tired ladies and lords sat and talked. "You may think being the daughter or Wiltshire is something to be proud of," he said savagely. "It is not. Your whoring sister married Sir William Carey – my nephew by marriage – and your brother will marry a daughter of another upstart knight. Despite your father now being an Earl, you will never marry well! No matter how hard your father tries, he will never be able to wed you to a nobleman of the old nobility."

"That is not true, Lord Northumberland," said Anne icily. "I will die rather than marry a knight."

Northumberland snorted. "Well then! If I hear news of your death due to Sweating Sickness, I will know Wiltshire has finally realised nobles will not accept you for their sons and he finally betrothed you to a knight. What about Master Edward Seymour? His father is a knight and I will be delighted to see you as nothing more than Lady Anne, Mistress Seymour."

Anne flushed with anger at his insults. "I will not marry a knight or a member of the gentry and my brother will not marry a knight's daughter!"

"Oh?" smirked Northumberland. "Who will he wed then?"

Anne knew that her next words could be considered treason and she risked everything – her life, her father's life, and George's life – by uttering proudly, "Princess Katherine Tudor."

Northumberland barked with laughter, wine spilling from his goblet as he shook uncontrollably with amusement. Courtiers glanced at him in surprise, as he was often silent in public occasions.

"You are a fool, Lady Anne," he said after he recovered. "Not only are you a fool, but a liar. When I am invited to your brother's wedding to…let's say Jane Parker, I will remember your brash words and remind you of them."

Chuckling to himself, he sauntered off, leaving Anne by herself.

Only a mere minute later, a pale George walked up to her.

"What happened to you?" she inquired curiously.

"Pieces of my heart are cracking," he said softly, reaching for a goblet of wine. "Father just informed me of Princess Katherine's betrothal. Originally she was to marry either the Duke of Parma or the King of Portugal, but the King refused to send her away from England. Instead…she is to wed the Duke of Buckingham's heir, Lord Henry Stafford. Buckingham is one of the most powerful dukes in all of England, and he has royal and noble blood! Of course the King will want his sister to marry well. What can I do, Anne? I will never be happy again!"

"The King will be happy for his sister to be Lady Stafford?"

"Upon their marriage, Henry Stafford will be 'Earl Stafford' until his father's death, when he will succeed him as duke of Buckingham."

_That was why Northumberland was so amused!_ Anne thought furiously. _His brother-in-law is Buckingham and he knew about Katherine's sudden betrothal to Buckingham's son!_

"You will be happy," Anne forced herself to say, as the cogs in her mind began moving. "I will make sure of it. I promise."

* * *

**So...what do you think Anne will do? Risk her neck for her brother's happiness? ;) I doubt Lord Northumberland is that discourteous to Anne, but I always imagined the 'old nobles' harboured great hatred towards the 'upstart nobles' during the Tudor era. **


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter X

**January, 1523**

From her place at the high table, Catherine watched Anne dance with Edmund indulgently. She – along with Joan FitzGerald and a Neville girl – seemed to be Edmund's favourite dance partners.

"It is about time Edmund is married," Arthur remarked.

Catherine nodded. "He should settle down and have a family. It is a pity Henry could not be convinced to join the church. I feel safer with Somerset-Tudor nephews than York ones. At least Henry does not have a son yet. Placing Edmund ahead of young Meg of York in the succession will be simple enough, don't you think, dear husband?"

"I rather not discuss the succession." Arthur shuddered. "I cannot believe Wiltshire chose such a feeble princess to be the future Princess of Wales! I rather Harry married to a robust and fertile Austrian Archduchess or Infanta of Portugal!"

"That would've been a wiser decision."

"Indeed. Alas, we cannot send Charlotte back to France! We must pray for her to be blessed with strength. I trust you will succeed in that." He smiled at Catherine. "I am honestly _astonished_ in Lord Rochford's diplomacy skills. He is nothing like his father! He has charm, wit, and at least half the ladies at court are in love with him!"

"Yes. I trust him more than I trust that wily Wiltshire. I think we should send him to Scotland to negotiate a peace treaty. I am not pleased in the prospect of our Cecily marrying the King of Scots – I rather her be the Queen of Portugal or Queen of Navarre – and I heard the Scots are a barbaric race. I do not want our Cecily to be treated poorly."

"Oh Catherine, you worry too much! The King of Scots is my nephew, and he won't dare strike Cecily or repudiate her for another woman. Besides, his mother is in favour of peace with England. It is only his regent I am concerned about…"

"Do you think Viscount Rochford will succeed in convincing the Scottish Regent to have peace with England including the marriage clause?"

"I don't see why not. Lord Rochford seems to be a capable man. We should arrange a good match for him – with the agreement of Wiltshire of course."

Arthur smiled. "Who do you propose?"

"Maria's daughter is the Willoughby heiress, but I have higher hopes for her as she is not only the daughter of my best friend, but my goddaughter. Perhaps Suffolk's eldest son for her? I was thinking of Lady Elizabeth Grey for Lord Rochford. Lady Elizabeth is a virtuous woman and of excellent stock. After all, she is the eldest daughter of Thomas Grey, 2nd Marquess of Dorset and his lady wife. I'm sure a suitable dowry can be arranged."

"An excellent suggestion! I will inform Lord Wiltshire at once! I'm certain if Rochford is successful, he will be able to wed Lady Elizabeth Grey by spring!"

Katherine stiffened.

George…wed to Lady Elizabeth Grey?

"Are you alright, dear sister?" said Arthur, looking at her concerned.

"I am well," said Katherine faintly.

"You look a little flushed," Catherine noted. "Why don't you get some air?" She gestured for Henry to join them. "Go for a walk with your sister," she instructed. "Katherine is not feeling her best and she needs fresh air. Ensure she remains safe from…certain people."

"Of course." Henry nodded and offered Katherine his hand. Even though he wanted to drink, chat with his friends and dance with his beloved Mary Carey, he noticed Katherine's stricken face at once. He smiled at the King and Queen and escorted Katherine outside.

"What is the matter?" he asked. "I can tell something is amiss."

"Lord Rochford will marry Lady Elizabeth Grey after he returns from Scotland," said Katherine, still shocked by the news. "I cannot believe it…"

"It is an honour for him to marry a Grey," said Henry, feigning ignorance at Katherine's affection for Lord Rochford. "He was a knight's son before his father was elevated into a peerage. He should be honoured at the prospect of having a Grey lady for his wife. Her father will give her a magnificent dowry and he will be a rich man. An _extremely_ rich man, knowing Lord Dorset. He will wish to provide ample dowries for all his daughters – including Lady Elizabeth."

"Lord Wiltshire will be pleased at a noble daughter-in-law, wouldn't he?"

"Indeed. He would be over the moon if he discovers his son and heir is in love with a princess, and she with him." He winked knowingly at her.

Katherine blushed. "I cannot marry him. Arthur will not approve of it. He wants me to stay in England, but he will arrange for me to marry a highborn nobleman, not Wiltshire's son."

"So? Our sister Mary became the glorious Queen of France, yet afterwards, she chose to marry _Suffolk_ of all people and face the King's wrath for love rather than remain Dowager Queen of France or married to a royal prince at the King's behest. I am a widower, and if I choose to marry again, it will be for love. I do not care if the King wants me to marry another French princess, or a Portuguese Infanta, but I will marry the woman I love. It is in our blood to marry for love. I do not see why you have to suffer being married to a haughty nobleman when you have the chance to marry for love!"

"But the King-"

"Do not worry about our brother, dear sister. He is fond of you, as is the Queen, and our siblings. We will all support you in your marriage with Rochford. I do not care if the King exiles me for my defiance, but I won't stop defying him until he gives you permission to wed Rochford. You are my dear sister, and I will never let you suffer."

Katherine smiled at him gratefully. "Thank you Henry. I appreciate it very much."

Henry grinned back at her. "We will ask the King in the afternoon tomorrow. I'm certain by then, he will be in a jolly mood."

* * *

George reached for another bottle of wine in his chambers – only for him to be slapped on both cheeks by his furious father.

"What are you doing here?!" Wiltshire growled.

"Drinking away my sorrows," slurred George, who usually had good control over his drinking. "Would you like to join me, Father?"

"You should be out there dancing! You are usually the light of the feast! What in the name of God has gone into your head?! Must I lock you in your chambers as if you're a child again?!"

"My love…she is betrothed…"

"You're speaking nonsense! Be a man and sober up!"

"I love her…I will never find another woman like her…"

"Oh, who is this woman?"

"Princess Katherine Tudor…"

Wiltshire frowned slightly. "You are mad! Princess Katherine…? You are ill, my son. I do not want to send you to Bedlam…"

"I am not mad! I love Katherine, and she loves me! She is the love of my life, and I will not abandon her for Jane Parker!" He spat as he mentioned her name. "I rather die a bitter, sonless, penniless man than marry any other woman but Katherine!"

"Son…you must have heirs…"

"Not if I must marry that shrew!"

Wiltshire's frown deepened as he listened to George's drunk ramblings. Could it be true that he is in love with Princess Katherine, and she with him? His spies had already informed him that the King and Queen are considering marrying George to Lady Elizabeth Grey – a great honour for George – but if George marries a princess of the royal blood…no one – especially those of the old nobility like Northumberland and Buckingham – can look down on his family again.

"You will not marry Jane Parker," Wiltshire said smoothly. "Do not fear, dear son. I will never allow you to marry a Parker. She is far too vile for you to marry. So you love Princess Katherine, do you? All I care is for your happiness."

It was an obvious lie, but George could not tell the difference between truth and lies anymore. Wiltshire himself had the ability to control his level of drinking, but experienced being a drunken man once or twice in his life and knew it must be something deeply troubling for George to be drunk. He would never purposely get drunk – even on the urgings of his pals. Wiltshire was a shrewd man – he knew an opportunity when it presents itself.

"I shall go and speak to the King," he lied. "Perhaps he will agree to the match between you and his royal sister. He is a kind-hearted king, after all."

"It is too late," moaned George. "She is to marry Buckingham's son!"

Wiltshire's expression hardened at the mention of Buckingham. He knew that as long as Buckingham lived, he would never be treated with the respect due to him. Just the other day, Buckingham rudely addressed him by calling him 'Boleyn' rather than his title!

"No she will not," said Wiltshire, more firmly than he intended to. "Princess Katherine will _not_ marry Buckingham's son – I will make sure of that."

* * *

The first thing Wiltshire did was seek out Suffolk, a man infamous for his womanising, drinking and friendship to the royal family.

"Go away Wiltshire," said Suffolk, once Wiltshire approached him.

"I believe we have something in common," said Wiltshire, picking up a goblet of ale and ignoring his earlier words. "It is to do with our King and his family."

"Oh really? What can that be? You finally saw sense and decided to berate the Duke of York for sleeping with your whorish daughter?"

"It is to do with Buckingham."

Suffolk stiffened. Even though he was a duke and the King's brother-in-law, he was seen by Buckingham as nothing more than an upstart noble like Wiltshire. He knew all too well that Buckingham had wanted his son to marry his Mary for a short time before turning his attentions to Princess Katherine for his heir. He also resented Buckingham for fervently urging the King to execute him for treason once his secret marriage to Mary was discovered.

Wiltshire smiled once he knew he had Suffolk's full attention. "I believe he is plotting treason like his father before him," he said smoothly. "I believe you are close to the Duke of York and the King? Perhaps you should warn them?"

"What is in it for you?" said Suffolk suspiciously.

"Oh, I know you have more influence with His Majesty than I ever will."

"I doubt that is your sole reason for telling me this."

Wiltshire looked around and whispered, "Are you not tired of being viewed as nothing but scum by those like Buckingham? You are a duke, and I am an Earl, yet we are both still treated as if we're nothing but knights! We should have our revenge!"

"What do you get out of this, _Boleyn?_ Your daughter is too old for my son and I rather marry my daughters off to Poles rather than to your son."

"Now that is quite harsh, don't you think?"

"Either tell me what it is you want or get out of my sight!"

"As you wish, Your Grace. I propose we incriminate the Duke of Buckingham in some treasonous plot – he probably_ is_ as we speak – and we have the pleasure of watching him be executed and his family disgraced once and for all. You are the King's own brother-in-law, and Buckingham still treats you with contempt! Besides, wouldn't you think of removing Buckingham as a favour to the King? As long as he lives, he will remain a threat to our gracious King."

Suffolk nodded slowly. "What you speak is truth – for once. Buckingham has risen; it is time for him to fall. Perhaps he will be executed like his father before him."

"So do we have an agreement, Your Grace?"

"What do I get out of this, apart from the satisfaction of watching Buckingham die?"

"What is it you wish for?"

"I want the King to pass a new succession law that states one who is born outside of English soil and princesses who marries into another royal house is excluded from the royal line of succession to the English throne. Furthermore, I want it stated that those who do not support Catholicism are removed from the succession too." At the mention of the last clause, he narrowed his eyes at Wiltshire, who merely smiled and nodded.

"Very well," Wiltshire replied. "I will aid you in that if you help me succeed in convincing the King to marry Princess Katherine to my son."

Furious, Suffolk flung his wine at his face and stormed out, muttering under his breath, "You will never succeed in this, Boleyn, you snake! Once Buckingham is executed, I will make sure you are next! Mark my words, Boleyn, I will not rest until you and your scheming family are utterly eliminated and destroyed! I will not have you as an ally! Ever!"

* * *

Anne gingerly approached Katherine, her heart pounding with worry. She knew what she planned could be considered as treason by the majority of the Court – it most likely _is_ treason – but she had promised George and could not let him down.

"Your Highness," said Anne nervously. "May I speak to you?"

"Why of course," said Katherine, surprised at her unusually anxious tone. "What is the matter, Lady Anne? Are you unwell?"

"Not exactly, Your Highness. I am physically well, but mentally ill with worry over my brother, Lord Rochford. He has succumbed to the evil of drink, and as his sister, I am concerned for him. He has been told bad news, Your Highness, and he was struck down by a broken heart. You see, Your Highness, if I may speak out of term, my brother is fond of you. There are rumours that he will marry one of Lord Dorset's daughters, but he feels he cannot go through with even the betrothal! My brother is in love with you, Your Highness, and I believe you are too, with him."

The Princess slowly placed her embroidery back into the basket and dismissed her ladies with the exception of Anne.

She looked at Anne carefully and said softly, "I do not want to see Lord Rochford heartbroken. However, there is nothing I can do. The Queen informed me this morning that for the good of peace between Lord Buckingham and the King, I am to marry Lord Henry Stafford, Lord Buckingham's heir. I am to marry for the good of England as much as Lord Rochford is to marry for the good of your family. It seems God has decided we are not meant to be together." A tear rolled down her cheek and splattered on her hand. "I consider you one of my closest friends, Lady Anne, and I confess, I love your brother. I wish I am as bold as Mary and can openly declare my love for Lord Rochford. Unfortunately, I am not, and I have already agreed to be married to Henry Stafford."

"Your Highness!" murmured Anne. "There is still time for you to repudiate your betrothal and marry for love! You are the King's sister! The King loves you and will not want to see you unhappily wed to the son of one of his potential rivals!"

"Even though I am his sister, I am still his subject. He loves me, yes, but he would want to secure the throne for his children and descendants. Buckingham is fickle; one minute, he is Arthur's closest friend, the next, he is plotting to assassinate him! I am unmarried and a princess – it is my duty to marry for the good of England, and I will through marrying Henry Stafford."

"You rather be a Stafford than a Boleyn?"

Princess Katherine raised an eyebrow. "It is not my choice."

"Yes it is, Your Highness! I do not have the freedom in choosing my husband, but you do! You are a princess, and moreover, the King's sister! If I marry for love, I will be disinherited and worthless! If I rashly marry a prince, I will be executed and my children declared bastards. You, Your Highness, you can defy orders and marry for love and suffer minor consequences. The King is too kind-hearted to hurt you, and the Queen will never order you to be arrested. Besides, George can entertain you with stories of his diplomatic travels. What can Henry Stafford possibly offer? A rowdy tale of his drunken night at the tavern with his friends?"

Katherine cracked a smile. "What do you suggest I do, Lady Anne? The King is in a meeting with the Privy Council, and the Queen is with her children. Who shall I inform first?"

"Talk to George," said Anne, her eyes shining with excitement. "He will listen to you. Do what Her Grace of Suffolk did – marry secretly. I know you may consider the idea with doubt and think of it as something I read from a frivolous novel, but if you really want to have a happy life with my brother, take it into your own hands, Your Highness, and be bold! You know this is the last chance for you to marry for love like your siblings did! His Majesty is happily married to Her Majesty, Her Grace with His Grace of Suffolk and the late Duchess of Cleves with her husband! You can be happy too!"

"You do have interesting ideas, Lady Anne. However, I do not think it is wise to speak to Lord Rochford when he is in a drunken state, don't you agree?"

"I will speak to him at once. Hopefully he will sober up by the evening, or at the most, tomorrow morning. You _will_ be happy, Your Highness, I swear it."

"I believe in you, Lady Anne, but how would I know your father does not have his fingers in this? What if he demands titles and lands due to his son's marriage to me?"

Anne was silent for a moment before saying quietly, "I cannot guarantee my father's actions. I cannot read his thoughts as he cannot read mine. He thinks his actions will benefit that of our family's, but mine guarantees my brother's happiness. If the King threatens to dissolve your marriage to George, I will face the consequences. I am unmarried, have no children, and only a spare pawn to my father. I will gladly spend a night in the Tower for you and George, Your Highness."

"I hope it does not resort to that, Lady Anne!"

"I too, Your Highness."

Princess Katherine rose and rummaged through a small chest she kept nearby. She picked up a small square patch of white cloth and handed it to Anne. "I would like you to give this to Lord Rochford," she said shyly, a pink blush rising on her cheeks. "I made it for him for the jousting tournament in a few days' time, but I think it is appropriate if you can give it to him for me now."

Anne looked at the small cloth in her hand. In the middle of it was a falcon – the Boleyn symbol – and surrounding it was a border of Tudor roses. Anne smiled. It was a beautiful gesture on the Princess's part, and she was certain that George would love it.

"The Queen taught me how to sew," Katherine said reminiscently. "Like my sisters, I was looked after by a lady governess who taught me womanly skills, but the Queen would always teach me how to sew. I hated it when I was younger, but now, whenever I hold a needle, I would remember thinking of the Queen as my surrogate mother. I loved her Spanish embroidery and she promised to teach me how to sew the Spanish style of it. She kept her promise. I cannot believe I will break my loyalty to her. She will be heartbroken at my treachery and will never trust me again. Why are you helping me so much, Lady Anne? Your life is more at stake than mine! Besides, you are one of the Queen's maids _and_ the French tutor to my royal nieces and nephew! The Queen will dismiss you from her household!"

"Her Grace of Suffolk was fond of me when I served her in France. I believe she is still fond of me, and I am certain she will accept me as a maid in her household. If not, I will retire to Hever Castle for a short time and then appeal to return to Court."

"You have already thought this out," said Katherine admiringly. "If my sister Mary will not accept you in her household – I highly doubt it – then I will have you as one of my ladies. I always envied the Queen for having such a witty lady like you in her service."

Anne smiled. "Thank you for the offer, Your Highness. I will go and speak to George immediately. I hope he will be presentable to Your Highness by this evening."

Katherine nodded. "I cannot thank you enough, Lady Anne."

"It is an honour to aid Your Highness in any way I can." Anne curtsied and departed. In her haste, she did not notice her father slip quietly into the Princess's chambers.

As Katherine's ladies resumed their normal duties, one of her servants announced, "The Right Honourable, Lord Wiltshire."

Katherine arched an eyebrow in surprise as she received Lord Wiltshire.

"Lord Wiltshire," she said calmly. "What can I do for you today?"

"Your Royal Highness," he said, bowing to her. "It has come to my attention that you are betrothed to Lord Henry Stafford. I have come here to offer my services."

"Offer your services, my lord? I do not understand."

"It is in my belief that in England's best interest, you should not marry Lord Henry Stafford. Not only will it enhance Lord Buckingham's ego, but it will give his grandchildren a claim – a very weak one mind you – to the throne. The only way you can avoid a succession crisis is if you are willing to relinquish your rights to the throne, which I am certain you will not do."

"This sounds like a political matter, Lord Wiltshire. Perhaps it will be in your best interest to discuss it with my brother, the King?"

"Oh, I will, Your Highness, I will. However, I thought it would be wise to approach you about it first, before I speak of it to His Majesty."

"Do you do so to get my support in your argument, Lord Wiltshire?"

"Why of course, Your Highness. If I have your consent in rejecting your betrothal to Lord Henry Stafford, it will make matters-"

"Please forgive me, but I have no interest in politics, my lord," Katherine cut in coldly like the clean cut of a blade. "I have no desire to be involved in debates regarding my betrothal. Let us say hypothetically, I agree to acknowledge my engagement to Lord Henry as null and void and accept your…services. What am I required to do, Lord Wiltshire?"

Wiltshire's eyes gleamed. "I see you are a woman of wisdom, Your Highness! I too, am a man of ambition and intelligence. If you promise to marry – or at least be solemnly betrothed to – my son, Lord Rochford, I will personally ensure the termination of your betrothal to Lord Henry Stafford and all potential betrothals between you and any princes in Christendom."

* * *

**Katherine is not as gullible as Wiltshire thought...hopefully she will marry George (even secretly) in the next chapter :) **


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter XI

**January, 1523**

"I'd like you to leave, my lord," said Katherine icily in a manner startling similar to the King's when he is angered. "I have no interest in aiding you plot against my brother's plans."

"It is your last chance to be free," Wiltshire warned, dismay clearly written on his facial expression. "I heard that Lord Buckingham is a tyrant – you will not want him as a father-in-law and I doubt his son is any kinder or honourable."

"I am a princess of England. If Lord Buckingham or his son dares to treat me poorly when I marry into their family, they will be sent to the Tower."

"Ah, but you will not be a princess then, will you, Your Highness?"

"Please leave, Lord Wiltshire. I will be merciful enough to pretend this audience never happened. If my brother the King, ever hears of it, he will not be so merciful to you, I can assure you of that. Now please, get out of my sight." She smiled sweetly at him.

Wiltshire gritted his teeth and bowed reluctantly. "As you wish, Your Highness," he muttered, retreating backwards slowly to the door. "I must warn you, not all other nobles are as thoughtful as I am. But as you wish, Your Highness, as you wish."

Katherine watched him leave and shuddered.

She loved George Boleyn and longed to marry him, but she would have Wiltshire as a father-in-law. She wondered if it was a wise decision to reject Wiltshire as an ally. Even though she is a princess and the King's sister, she would need at least one ally to aid her if she decided to follow through with Anne's plans and marry George in secret. She smiled as she remembered her history lessons in the classroom. If she indeed decided to pursue a secret marriage with her one true love, she would be following in the footsteps of her glorious ancestors.

There was Catherine of Valois who secretly married Owen Tudor, King Edward IV of England who married Elizabeth Woodville whilst his advisors were negotiating for him to marry Bona of Savoy and even her own sister Mary!

She wondered again if it was wise to continue with her decision to marry George. If she did, there would be severe consequences not only for herself, but for George, her family and England: the loss of the Staffords as an ally and the King's fury.

As she pondered her impending decision, her sister Mary entered her chambers, her eyes flashing with anger. "Get out!" she ordered. Katherine's ladies hurriedly stood up, curtsied and scurried out like timid mice, a couple glancing at the Duchess of Suffolk fearfully.

"You cannot marry that Stafford," said Mary sharply. "Arthur is a fool – marrying you to Henry Stafford will not solve anything."

"You speak treason," Katherine warned her. "Arthur is our king."

"Pah. He is also our brother. This is what Buckingham wants! He wants his family tied to ours! He knows you are unmarried, and I bet a thousand crowns that it was Buckingham that suggested the match! Arthur may say it's his idea, but it most likely is Buckingham! He is responsible for it! He will not rest until he sees the bloody bed sheets after you get married!"

Katherine blushed. "Sister, are you sure you are not jealous that the King wishes for me to marry a lord from an ancient noble family?"

"I do not care! Please tell me you have no desire to marry Henry Stafford!"

"Um…I have no desire to marry Henry Stafford?"

"Do you have a calling to join the nunnery? I'm certain the Queen will support you if you declare you wish to become a nun."

Katherine laughed. "You think I wish to be a nun?"

"I rather you a nun than remain unmarried!"

"Oh Mary! You worry too much!"

"Katherine, you are a princess of England. Being unmarried is dangerous." She glanced around and whispered, "Do you have a lover in mind?"

Katherine stared at her, taken back. "A lover? Sister, I do not mean to be rude to you, but how dare you suggest I have a lover! I am as pure as the Virgin Mother! I would never do such a thing! Why would you even _think_ I have taken a lover?! I know you are feisty and Henry is one who takes mistresses, but I will never take a lover!"

Mary laughed. "Relax, dear sister! Do you fancy a man then?"

Katherine shrugged. "Perhaps."

Mary's eyes glittered. "Well! That certainly changes matters! Marry him! Arthur will be relieved – though he will pretend to be furious – and thankful you are no longer available in the royal marriage market! Buckingham will be angry of course, but at least you will have married for love rather than politically for Buckingham's own satisfaction. Now tell me, who is the fortunate man that has managed to win the heart of my dear, little, innocent sister? Wait, let me guess. I always enjoy a good game: is he one of Henry's friends?"

"Perhaps."

"Hmm. The handsome Sir William Compton?"

"He is already married and has children."

"Ah yes, how remiss of me…it must be Sir Anthony Knivert! He is often silent, but quite attractive, don't you think?" She looked at Katherine triumphantly. "It must be Knivert!"

"No."

"Is he a nobleman at least? Arthur will be truly infuriated if you've fallen in love with a lowly servant or stable boy in Henry's household."

"Of course he is a nobleman!"

"I do not know…Lord Francis Talbot?"

"No…"

Mary sighed, "Oh I give up! Which one of Henry's friends could've possibly charmed you? I know I fancied some of them before I met Charles."

A smile lingered on Katherine's lips as she said shyly, "George Boleyn."

Mary snorted. "You must be jesting, dear sister! Have you met his father?! He is a wolf! Buckingham is the Devil's son, as is Wiltshire!"

"Actually, I just met Lord Wiltshire," said Katherine pleasantly, her smile broadening as she saw Mary's expression contort into surprise. "Indeed an ambitious and unpleasant man, but I do not wish to marry him; I want to marry George Boleyn."

"George Boleyn is Wiltshire's son!"

"I am aware of it."

"You will have to live with Wiltshire!"

"I am prepared to sacrifice it for love and happiness. I'm certain you were in a situation like my own when you planned to secretly marry Charles. Henry is already aware that I harbour feelings towards George and he promises to help me if I need it. Now that you know, will you inform the King about it as you would be technically obliged to?"

Mary shook her head. "You are my dear sister and you are in love. Besides, I rather see you happily wed to a Boleyn than unhappily to a Stafford. You must be married at once." She frowned thoughtfully. "Is there a lady you trust, who happens to have ties to Lord Rochford?"

"Lady Anne was particularly eager for me to wed her brother."

Mary smiled. "She was always a good maid when I was Queen of France. So full of spirit, willing to help and a good listener. I would talk to her about many matters when we were in France, and I would always forget she was still a little girl."

"Do you think I should trust Lady Anne? My heart tells me I should, but out of all of us, you know Lady Anne the best…"

"Yes." Mary nodded fervently. "Lady Anne is not one who fails or betrays. You can trust her. I give you my word on it. Are you prepared to face the consequences of a secret marriage?"

Katherine nodded without hesitation. "Yes. Should Wolsey be told?"

"The butcher's son? Why should he know about it?"

"I know you still pretend to hate him because he arranged – with our brother's permission – for you to marry the old King of France. Remember, it was Wolsey who saved your husband from execution and you from being disinherited. It is about time you accept that _His Eminence_ will remain in the King's Council and will forever hold great influence over him, even if he was the son of an Ipswich butcher. Perhaps Wolsey also hopes I am not married to Stafford. He is utterly devoted to the King and may put in a good word for me and George to the King."

"It may be wise for you to tell him _after_ you are wedded and bedded."

"True. I suppose I will do that. I have a feeling Cardinal Wolsey will be inwardly delighted if I go to him and ask for help and advice."

"That will not be a surprise. Enough talk about the butcher's son. I will be honoured to be a witness at your secret wedding."

"You will?"

Mary nodded and smiled. "Of course. When will you and Lord Rochford wed?"

"Perhaps this evening? Lady Anne went off to tell her brother to sober up. Apparently George drank a little too much wine."

"Probably grieving that he will lose you to Stafford," Mary snorted. "I hope Lady Anne has him sobered up before he thinks of something rash and demands a duel with Stafford over your hand in marriage. Men these days, always actions first and the thinking second."

"What about you when you married Charles? Did you marry him rashly first?"

Mary gave her a mysterious look. "You will never find out, little sister. Now, let us address some more important issues: what are you wearing to your wedding?"

* * *

Buckingham clinked goblets with his heir – Lord Henry Stafford – as they celebrated the news of young Stafford's impending betrothal.

"It is about time you get married," said Buckingham decidedly. "Your mother urged me to arrange a match for you with a Neville girl or a daughter of Lord Shrewsbury, but I am pleased the waiting has finally paid out! You will be wed to Princess Katherine Tudor! A pity you are to marry the youngest daughter of King Henry VII of England, but she is a finer choice of bride than any other noblewoman in the whole of England! You are a fortunate man, my son."

"Will she love me?" said Stafford worriedly.

"Now! Love does not matter! We are already related to the King, but with your marriage to Katherine Tudor, we will have an even closer bond with them! Who knows? Maybe one day we will have enough political power and military support to be the next royal family." He chuckled as his son looked at him with horror. "Don't look so frightened, my boy! We have more royal blood than those upstart Tudors, and with you married to Katherine Tudor and if we happen to gain the throne, we will be secure and I will have those Tudors bow to me!"

"Holding a throne is not as easy as gaining one, lord Father. Besides, the King is popular with the people, and the Queen is extremely charitable and the aunt of the powerful Holy Roman Emperor! Even if your plans succeed, the people will never accept a Stafford for their king."

"Bah! This is why I will not launch a rebellion when you are unmarried or childless! Not all men are as patient as I am, my son. I can wait – not forever though." He looked intently at Henry Stafford. "When you marry Katherine Tudor, you will consummate the marriage whether she likes it or not. Ignore all those acts of chivalry your mother told you when you were a child; if she is not willing to open her legs to you, force yourself on her. Once you marry her, she is yours to command. When she becomes your wife, she will no longer be a princess, only Lady Stafford." He smirked.

His son stared at him, shocked and bewildered.

"I…I cannot force myself on her!" he stammered. "It…it is not right!"

"Yes it is!" Buckingham insisted. "Are you a man or not? After your wedding night, I expect to see the bloody sheets! Oh, and I will be posting my own, most trusted guards outside your rooms. We cannot have Katherine asking for divorce, now can we? It will ruin everything! You must have a brood of sons _and_ daughters – the more the better. I expect you to rival Elizabeth Woodville in your number of surviving offspring. Above all, your heir must marry a Spanish Infanta."

"The Emperor will never agree to it! He is betrothed to the Princess Mary and he will not be pleased if his uncle-in-law is deposed and his future bride disinherited! He will send troops into England, conquer it and declare England to be a Spanish colony under the rule of the Tudors! Father! You must stop plotting the impossible! For both our sakes!"

"It is possible! It_ will_ be possible!"

"You are already speaking treason, lord Father! Please do not act so recklessly! My lady mother will never forgive you!"

"I do not want her forgiveness for anything! Your mother will be grateful when I take the crown and she becomes my queen!"

"No. I will not be involved in this. I will marry Katherine, be kind to her and move back to Thornbury Castle in Gloucestershire! As long as you keep plotting, the longer I will stay away! You do not have any other sons and you not dare disinherit me for my actions!"

The Duke's eyes gleamed. "My son, you are still young. You speak nonsense as young people do. You think you are not a part of my plans? You have been a fool for far too long, my son. All your life, you have played a part in my games, and you will do so until our deaths."

* * *

Headaches plagued Arthur as he sat in his chambers, listening to Wolsey read out a list of issues and developments throughout England.

He was aware that many of the nobles – even a few members of his family – despised Wolsey, but he liked the man; Wolsey was intelligent, loyal and a capable servant. Even though Wolsey loved finery more than he did, Wolsey was one of the few men he knew he could trust.

"Was it a mistake?" Arthur said suddenly.

"Your Majesty?" said Wolsey, startled at the sudden interruption. "What do you mean by a mistake? Are you of the opinion that the Queen gave the nuns of Amesbury too many alms and coins the last time she went to visit the nunneries, convents and priories?"

"No, no, Your Eminence," said Arthur hastily. "Catherine is a religious woman and I will never doubt how much she gives to the poor and those of religious houses. I was wondering if it is wise to betroth my sister to Lord Buckingham's heir. I know you are still in favour of marrying her to the King of Portugal for an Anglo-Portuguese alliance or even for Katherine to marry the Duke of Parma to strengthen England's ties with the Pope, but I love my sister, and I cannot bear her unhappy and away from England. I already made that mistake with Mary and Elizabeth. Fortunately Elizabeth had a happy marriage, but Mary did not. My late father would call me a fool for viewing love before England, but I cannot have my youngest sister unhappy too, and away from England."

"Your Majesty-"

"Catherine thinks it is best for England to ally with Portugal or Parma and suggests that Katherine may be happy as she will be a Queen or Duchess." He broke into a small smile. "That is one matter you and my wife agree on, my lord Cardinal!" His smile disappeared as he continued, "However, I am not my father, and I want Katherine to stay at home."

"I understand, Your Majesty."

"Oh Wolsey! I did not speak to you about this only for you to reply 'yes' or 'no' like a loyal dog! If I wanted that, I would've consulted Suffolk or any of those courtiers! Speak your mind, my friend! Is it wise to betroth my sister to Lord Henry Stafford?"

Wolsey thought for a moment.

"I admit, Your Majesty, it may not be the wisest move," he said finally. "The Staffords have royal blood and noble blood from the most prominent noble families, and they are not to be trusted. The present Duke of Buckingham's father was executed by King Richard III whom he pledged loyalty to! If he was one with good intentions, then yes, a betrothal between his heir and a royal princess would be reward enough. As it is His Grace of Buckingham we are discussing, I believe it will not sway him to be completely loyal to you still. He would have airs as the father-in-law of Your Majesty's sister and there will never be peace in your family, as he will always be at odds with His Grace of Suffolk. As your loyal servant and advisor, I'd think it wise to dissolve the betrothal between Princess Katherine and Lord Henry Stafford."

Arthur nodded. "I have been foolish and acted without thinking. I thought that as Lord Buckingham has not been involved in treasonous reports for many years is enough to prove his loyalty. I cannot be more wrong. I am glad I have you as an advisor, Your Eminence. However, I do fear for Katherine. She is no longer a young girl and must be married quickly, whilst Lord Buckingham needs to be appeased. I do not want Katherine to marry a minor prince, but how else will she stay in England? Perhaps Portugal is the best idea. Is the King still seeking an alliance with England?"

Wolsey could not be more delighted. "Ah, Your Majesty, you need not look further. His Majesty of Portugal is indeed interested in an alliance with England, but as you care for the health and wellbeing of your sister, the Princess Katherine, may I propose a new spouse?"

Arthur nodded eagerly. "Pray continue, my lord Cardinal."

"As you know, I have mentioned the importance of securing a perpetual peace alliance with France on many occasions-"

"Wolsey, The Duke of Orléans and Princess Charlotte are my wards, and in time, Princess Charlotte will wed Harry, and the little Duke will return to France with peaceful intentions towards England in his heart. I think our alliance with France is secure enough."

"Ah, but hear me out."

Arthur relented with another nod.

"For some time, I have been interested with the duchy of Lorraine," the wily Cardinal began. "A member of the royal ducal family was King Henry VI's consort, Queen Margaret of Anjou. She was not loved by the people, but I noticed that the Lorraine dukes have often allied themselves with France and consider themselves to be French. Why not ally England with Lorraine too? The current duke – Duke Antoine I – has unmarried brothers, and why not affiance Princess Katherine to one of them? I am inclined to arranging a match – with Your Majesty's permission of course – between the Princess Katherine and Louis de Lorraine, Count of Vaudémont. As he is a younger brother, the Count will not be required to live in France or Lorraine. A treaty clause can be for the Count to reside in England."

"You are clever, Wolsey. That will indeed benefit England. However, I do not wish for Katherine to be a Countess Consort while Margaret is Dowager Queen of Scotland and Mary is Duchess of Suffolk. Why not betroth Meg to Duke Antoine's heir, Prince François? My Mary will be Holy Roman Empress and Queen of Spain, Cecily will be Queen of Scotland and my Tudor niece will be future Duchess of Lorraine! I am more than willing to elevate the girl to 'princess'. She is Henry's only child after all."

Wolsey frowned slightly. He had other ideas for Lady Margaret of York…

"Duke Antoine has an unmarried sister," he suggested. "Princess Isabelle of Lorraine. Perhaps His Highness, the Duke of York-"

"No," Arthur cut in. "His first wife was already French, and Meg is half-French. I promised Henry that I would not force him into another political marriage, and I intend to keep that promise. Besides, I suspect Isabelle of Lorraine is highly religious and already lives in a convent in France."

"Very well, my lord King. I shall leave the matter of the Princess Katherine to you. However, about Lord Stafford…I have thought of a perfect spouse for him."

"Already?!"

"Yes, Your Majesty. There is Lady Salisbury's daughter, Lady Ursula Pole."

"Are you certain that is a good idea, Your Eminence? Lady Ursula Pole is descended from the House of York maternally. Not a strong claim to the throne, but can be still considered a threat. I rather see her safely married to perhaps, Edmund. I do not trust her married to a Stafford. Their children will be descended from claimants, and that is not what I need."

"Do you not think Lady Ursula is not suited to be the wife of a royal prince, Your Majesty? Indeed, she has royal blood – though through her mother – but she is the daughter of a knight and a countess in her own right. His Highness of Somerset is entitled to a more noble bride."

"I have promised Edmund that he can marry any woman he loves, whether she is a princess, a noblewoman or a knight's daughter. I know you have England's interests at heart, Thomas, but I love my siblings equally to England."

"Of course, Your Majesty."

"However, I will agree to your suggestion of Lady Ursula for Lord Stafford. Catherine will agree to it as Lady Salisbury is one of her good friends and an excellent governess to our children. I think Lady Salisbury – despite her dubious status as a Yorkist at birth – is a staunch loyalist and to be trusted. She must've installed a sense of duty and loyalty to the crown into her children, and Lady Ursula is part of Catherine's train of ladies and maids I believe. At times, I still suspect the Poles, but now, I am content to believe them to be trustworthy Poles, not troublesome claimants."

"Very wise decision, Your Majesty."

"I want you to inform Suffolk about the changes in the betrothal and tell Lord Buckingham that if he accepts the dissolution of the betrothal between Lord Stafford and Katherine, his son will have Lady Ursula Pole as a bride. You will also negotiate with him and Lady Salisbury for the latter's daughter's dowry. If the Duke refuses to agree to end the betrothal…" He thought for a moment before he smiled rather mischievously for a king. "His son can marry another lady."

"Do you have one in mind, Your Majesty?"

"A few, Your Eminence, a few. The Staffords are a proud lot, and will never marry their sons and daughters to the progeny of knights."

"Your Majesty, I must protest-"

Arthur rushed ahead, "There is a lady in Catherine's entourage that she mentioned fondly before. She is quiet, demure, scarcely noticed by others and is a country girl. Sir John Seymour's daughter. Tell Lord Buckingham that if he does not accept the termination of the betrothal between Lord Stafford and my sister Katherine, he will find his son and heir in my custody and married to Mistress Jane Seymour." He smiled brutally. "I'm confident Lord Buckingham will trouble us no longer in the marriage market after this, don't you, my lord Cardinal?"

* * *

**I am so sorry for the wait! I had exams, assessments and writer's block! Not a good combination! I promise I will try and continue my other stories the best I can :) Next chapter will have more Anne in it - and a wedding :D **


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter XII

**January, 1523**

Giddy with bewilderment at Anne's news, George was hurried to the royal chapel after evening service had finished after being dressed in his finest clothes.

His mind was still a little bogged down after he downed his sorrows in alcohol and he wondered if his mind was playing tricks on him. However, he felt Anne pinch his arm like she did when they were children, and he would know it was real – he was going to be married to Katherine, the love of his life. She would not be forced to marry Buckingham's son and he would not be forced to married to any girl his father chooses for him.

Anne beamed at him. "Are you ready to meet your bride?"

She had chosen to wear a dark red gown embroidered with falcons. It was specifically made for her wedding to James Butler, but as it had never materialised, she considered the gown to be like all her other courtly dresses and decided to wear it.

"It feels like a dream…" murmured George, rubbing his eyes as the chapel doors creaked closed behind them. He stared ahead at the splendid figure in green and silver. "I cannot believe this is happening," he said again. To his surprise, he noticed the Duchess of Suffolk gliding towards them in a velvet gown of dark green, her red hair braided and crowned with a small silver tiara.

He bowed. "Your Grace."

"Lord Rochford," the Duchess acknowledged. "Lady Anne Boleyn. Now that you are both here, the wedding ceremony can begin."

"Indeed, Your Grace. Will there be the danger of the King or his councillors catching us here and reporting it to the King?"

"Not at all! Katherine requested privacy in the chapel to pray and with the Queen on her side, the King had ensured the chapel to be quiet and empty for his sister's sake." She smiled. "Her Majesty would have loved to come and pray with Katherine, but Katherine had pleaded complete privacy. The Queen would not think it strange for too long."

"It is kind of His Majesty."

"He may not be too pleased after this!"

George nodded and walked up to Katherine, her abundant brownish-red hair cascading down her back, a diadem resting on top of her head. She turned to him and smiled. "You look particularly handsome today, Lord Rochford. Even if you spent the day drinking."

He blushed. "You look ever so radiant and lovely, my lady Princess."

The priest cleared his throat. "Err, Your Highness, my lord. Shall we begin?"

Katherine nodded, excited.

The priest began speaking, his words going through one of her ears and coming out the other. Her skin prickled with anticipation as he finally started the vows.

"I, Lord George Boleyn, Viscount Rochford, take thee, Princess Katherine Tudor," announced George. "To be my lawful wedded Wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth."

"I, Princess Katherine Tudor, take thee, Lord George Boleyn, Viscount Rochford," Katherine stated. "To be my lawful wedded Husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I give thee my troth."

"With this Ring I thee wed," said George, placing a ring, encrusted with tiny rubies and diamonds on her finger. "With my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow: In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen."

Anne and Duchess Mary clapped as George and Katherine kissed.

They were finally married.

"Must we witness the consummation?" said Anne worriedly.

Duchess Mary laughed. "I always thought you feared nothing, Lady Anne! Do not worry! I already have a loyal maid ready to witness that part of the wedding! I know your father will be occupied with political matters and will not have time to retire to his chambers tonight. Lady Carey is too, busy and will not be in her rooms either. I believe my brother requested her again." She snorted.

Anne felt uncomfortably. "Your Grace-"

"Do not dare think of apologising Lady Anne! It is not your fault your sister decided to throw away her virtue and honour to be my brother's mistress!"

"But I-"

"What did I say about not apologising, Lady Anne? I did not know you are one to disobey orders." She glared at her mockingly. "You are certainly more than welcome to spend the night listening to the sound of passionate love making, or you can retire to my chambers."

Anne flushed. "Um, thank you, Your Grace."

"Let us go," said Duchess Mary, drawing her away from George and Katherine slowly. "Katherine knows what to do now. You do not need to concern yourself with what happens next. You must be exhausted from all this excitement! Let us go and leave the happy couple in peace."

"What about the priest?"

"He is my personal chaplain and married me and Charles secretly. He knows how to keep quiet and earn a nice reward for it."

"I doubt the Queen will approve of your actions."

The Duchess grinned. "Who knows? Perhaps if the King agrees to accept Katherine's marriage to Lord Rochford, they might have another wedding ceremony, this time more festive and public. The common folk will always want an excuse for more celebrations."

"At least now they are happily wed," said Anne wistfully, glancing at George and Katherine before slipping out of the chapel with the Duchess. She thought of the hurtful expression on Edmund's face when he heard of Lord Henry Percy declare his intention to marry her the other night. "It is rare for lords and princesses to be happily married," she added.

Duchess Mary nodded. "It is indeed sad," she agreed. "Do not fear, Lady Anne; I'm certain you will find a loving husband one day. I know you will."

* * *

Katherine stretched and yawned. She squinted as the sunlight streamed through the window and winced in pain before she remembered where she was.

She was in George's bedchambers as his lawful wife.

Her eyes widened.

_She is now George's wife…_

"Good morning my love." She smiled as she saw George walk towards her, holding out a tray filled with food. "I thought you would be hungry," he said, placing it on the table beside her. "You overslept this morning too. It won't be long before the King suspects you have been abducted! Anne told me that he asked the Queen why you weren't at Mass, and the Queen said that perhaps you prayed all night and God would forgive you for not attending Mass."

"What do we do now?" murmured Katherine, snuggling closer to him as he sat on the side of the bed. "I do not want to leave your sight."

"We must. We must go and see Wolsey. Only he can help us now."

"Must we go now? Wolsey can wait…"

"Kate, my love, we must go now before matters get worse. The Cardinal is a reasonable man. Despite his love for finery, he is indeed extremely loyal to the King and not like other ambitious nobles. Our best chances to secure a full pardon and remain in Court is with Wolsey."

Katherine sighed. "Very well. Do you know where he is?"

"Consulting the King?"

"Very well…what happened to my gown?"

George looked at her sheepishly. "Yes…about that…I may owe you a new gown. Anne left you another dress. I told her what happened last night and she managed to retrieve one of your dresses from your wardrobe and deliver it here. I honestly don't know how she gets away with it, truly, but here, you should put it on." He placed a red gown on the chair beside the table. "Once this is sorted, we will have peace," he promised. "We can go away to the countryside, perhaps to Hever Castle, and have our honeymoon together, alone, and without political drama or plotting. Wouldn't you like that? A whole month of pure bliss! A whole month to celebrate our love." He kissed her forehead.

Katherine laughed. "I better get dressed in that gown then!"

George did not budge.

She raised an eyebrow. "Are you planning to watch a maid help me dress?"

"No," he said innocently. "I am offering myself to help you get dressed. Can't a husband aid his lady wife in the tricky art of changing garments?"

Katherine glared at him mockingly. "Good luck trying to 'help' me. Have you ever helped a girl put on a dress before? You might find it a more difficult challenge than the maids do…"

* * *

Wolsey had just finished a filling breakfast of sausages, bread and ale, when he headed towards his study. To his astonishment, he found Princess Katherine and Lord Rochford already there!

"Your Highness," he said, with a bow. "My lord Rochford. How may I be of assistance?"

"We need your help, Your Eminence," began Katherine. "It is a rather…delicate matter."

The Cardinal's eyebrows rose. He glanced at George and then at the Princess. "Your Highness," he said carefully. "Perhaps we should speak alone if it is a delicate matter…?"

"It is not _that_ delicate," said Katherine quickly. "Lord Rochford did not assault me in any way if you think that is the case, Your Eminence. You are my brother the King's closest advisor, and you helped my sister Mary when she needed it. You see, my lord Cardinal, we are married. Lord Rochford is my husband, and we wed in secret…last night."

"I see."

"Please, Your Eminence! You understand the dangers of me marrying Lord Buckingham's heir! I too feel unable to marry Lord Stafford in fear his father will use me as a figurehead for his own ambitions! I chose to marry Lord Rochford for love! If I didn't, it would never end!"

"Never end, Princess?"

"All the betrothals, engagements…! You will wish to marry me off for England's benefit whilst the King will remain uncertain which Englishman for me to marry! He loves me, but believes I deserve a prince to be on equal rank to my sisters! I do not care! I am happy to remain as Lady Rochford! I love Lord Rochford and we married. We would both die than be married to others."

"I doubt exaggeration is necessary, my lady Princess."

"Can you help us? Please?"

Wolsey sighed. It was a difficult predicament…

When the Princess Mary married Suffolk in secret, that was a different situation. Suffolk was the Duke of York's closest friend and a good companion of the King's during their childhood. If the Princess Katherine had chosen her husband from one of the Duke of York's friends, she would be forgiven and her husband elevated to a peerage. However, she had decided to marry Lord Rochford…a reckless move. Indeed, the man was an excellent diplomat and a lord, but his father – Lord Wiltshire – was not in the best of favours with the King at the moment. Wolsey himself was confused at the reasons Wiltshire chose Princess Charlotte de Valois as the Prince of Wales's future wife. Was Wiltshire blind, or could he not tell the frailty and delicate complexion of the French Princess?

"Princess," he said carefully. "Are you aware that the King has only yesterday, decided to terminate your betrothal to His Grace of Buckingham's son? It would not be wise if you appear at Court today with Lord Rochford as your husband. Lord Buckingham is not a particularly wise man, but he has powerful connections within the nobility, and he does not forget a slight, no matter how small. It would be advisable, Your Highness, if you present yourself as unmarried today and perhaps the next."

"For how long, Your Eminence?" said Katherine, almost desperately.

"Not very long, Your Highness," Wolsey assured her. "Once Lord Buckingham is appeased, I will inform the King of your marriage."

"How can we trust you?" said George cautiously. "Even though you promise to speak on our behalf, I find that is very unlike you. You don't even sound particularly surprised when Katherine told you about our secret marriage! Why is that?" He looked at him suspiciously before turning to Katherine. "My love, this is a bad idea. We should go and tell the King at once."

"The King will arrest you," Wolsey said calmly. "He will declare your marriage untrue in the eyes of God and marry Her Highness off to a more suitable prince."

"Like who?" challenged George. "A prince of your choosing?"

"I advise you to speak with more respect to me, Lord Rochford. It won't be long before you find yourself on trial and I will be deciding your fate."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry, my lady Princess." Wolsey looked at Katherine apologetically. "However, it is for the good of the realm." He clapped his hands and guards swarmed in, all bearing badges of the Cornish chough; Wolsey's personal emblem.

"You cannot do this, you butcher's curd!" yelled George, as two guards seized him.

"Your Highness," said Wolsey, ignoring him and addressing Katherine. "Permit my guards to escort you to His Majesty's chambers. As his royal sister, you will stay in comfortable lodgings until a certain time while Lord Rochford here will spend the night in the Tower. If the King sees reason, he will send you on a pilgrimage to cleanse yourself of sins and you will return to court a true lady of virtues. Lord Rochford here…he will face trial. If he is deemed guilty of seducing you my lady, he will be executed; most likely a beheading due to his noble status."

"W-what?" stammered Katherine. "Seducing me?"

"How else would he have gotten you to marry him?" said Wolsey smoothly, offering her his arm. "You are a princess; Lord Rochford is a knight's son. Now come with me, my lady Princess. His Majesty will be waiting for us."

Shocked and speechless, Katherine walked with him away, her heart pounding with apprehension and fear. Who could have betrayed her? Her sister Mary? No. Mary would never betray her – especially to Wolsey. But then again, Wolsey saved her marriage from dissolution and prevented Suffolk's execution for marrying a princess in secret. Could it be the ever so helpful Lady Anne Boleyn? Possibly. Wouldn't it benefit her more if she _is_ married to George though? She did not even want to consider the betrayer being her sister's priest. Of course he would be the betrayer.

"You cannot throw me into the Tower without the King's permission!" George growled, struggling fervently against the guards' iron grip. "You-" He was silenced once Wolsey shoved an unrolled piece of parchment under his nose.

"This is…" said George faltering. "The…the King signed it?"

Wolsey nodded smugly. "Satisfied, Lord Rochford? Will you go to the Tower quietly now? You speak another word, I will be forced to gag you. Go without a fuss, I promise you will receive comfortable quarters in the Tower."

They walked in silence until the guards dragged George away towards the Tower. Katherine was too speechless to say anything to him as Wolsey pulled her towards the King's chambers.

_I love you_, she thought as a tear trickled down her cheek. _I love you George Boleyn._

The King's guards opened the door and Wolsey entered with Katherine.

Standing in front of the fireplace with his arms crossed was Arthur, his pallid face expressionless. Beside him, Catherine sat on a cushioned chair with a concerned expression. Sitting on chairs on Arthur's left were Edmund and Henry. Mary was nowhere to be seen.

"Thank you, Your Eminence," said Arthur stiffly. "Where is Lord Rochford?"

"On his way to the Tower," replied Wolsey.

"I asked you to place him under _house arrest_, Thomas, not take him to the Tower."

"My apologies, Your Majesty."

"Hmmph." He stared at Katherine. "Sister…_why?_ Why did you not tell me?"

"I thought you would disapprove of us marrying for love," said Katherine, tears flowing down her cheeks now. "You would think it is a waste of an alliance."

"It is a waste," muttered Catherine in agreement.

Arthur held up his hand to silence her. "Catherine," he said almost wearily. "Not now. Please." He glanced at Wolsey. "You too, Thomas." He returned to gaze at Katherine. "I am your _brother_. I would _always_ listen to you. Why did you not tell me about Rochford seducing you? If you mentioned it earlier, I would've had him thrown into the dungeons without a second thought!" His voice sharpened. "Did he force himself upon you? Are you with child?" He looked at her suspiciously. "Did you marry him only because he forced his seed in you?"

"No!" cried Katherine, distraught. "It isn't true! George didn't seduce me! We are in love! We married for love! I would tell you Arthur, but time was not on our side! You would marry me off to a prince or an English duke and George will be wed to a wealthy noblewoman of his father's choosing! For the sake of love, we had to marry quickly!"

"It is true," spoke Henry. "Katherine loves Lord Rochford with all her heart."

Arthur looked pained. "You did not tell me that."

"I did not have the chance to. Besides, I promised Katherine I wouldn't say a word about it before Katherine does. A knight never breaks his vow."

"Henry! This has nothing to do with knights! What am I to do?! Here you are swearing that Katherine loves Rochford, whilst…someone else is stating that Rochford has seduced her!"

"That person is clearly lying!"

Arthur sighed. "Katherine…why?"

"Why?" said Katherine, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"Why Rochford? Out of all the noble lords in my court…why Rochford? Why not a Percy lord? A Neville lord? A Grey lord?"

"George is different. He didn't love me because I am your sister; he didn't proclaim his love for me because I will advance his fortunes at court; he loves me for me. If we were only two farmers, he would still love me and I will always love him."

"How do you know he didn't seduce you on the orders of his father?"

"I would know if George was seducing me."

"I doubt it," Arthur muttered bitterly. "You are a pure lady of virtue. I doubt you would know the difference between being courted and being seduced."

Before Katherine could retort, the doors opened and Mary strode in, her eyes flashing with fury. "You cannot do this!" she shouted angrily. "You cannot imprison Katherine because of her marriage! Don't you dare dissolve the match on the word of the butcher's son either!"

"_His Eminence_," Arthur corrected her. "Mary-"

"WHO IN GOD'S NAME INFORMED YOU THAT GEORGE BOLEYN SEDUCED KATHERINE?! GIVE ME A NAME AND I WILL GO AFTER AND EXECUTE HIM MYSELF!"

"Mary, calm yourself! No one will be executed or imprisoned – yet at least."

"BUT YOU WILL! UNDER THE ORDERS OF THAT BASTARD!" Mary pointed accusingly at Wolsey. "I WILL NOT STAND BY SILENTLY AND WATCH MY SISTER'S HUSBAND BE BEHEADED FOR NO CRIME BUT MARRYING FOR LOVE!"

"Marrying a princess without the King's permission, Your Grace," Wolsey reminded her. "That is a crime punishable by death."

"Be quiet!" Mary spat.

"Your Eminence," said Arthur, bidding Mary to sit with a nod. "What do you recommend I do?"

"Dissolve the marriage," said Wolsey steadily. "Pray the court is unaware of Princess Katherine's marriage to Lord Rochford and have it dissolved. I'm certain His Holiness will agree to give them an annulment once Your Majesty writes to him. After a short time, arrange for Princess Katherine to wed a prince – the King of Portugal is still eager to marry her – and execute Lord Rochford. He has married the Princess without Your Majesty's permission and will be sentenced to death once you give the word. He will also be executed in secret if Your Majesty agrees to it. I am well aware Your Majesty is merciful and wishes to forgive Rochford, but it will be in England's interest if he dies. Princess Katherine is innocent; she is not aware of Rochford's seductive ways. I have heard from more than one woman that Lord Rochford is a womaniser and frequently ventures local brothels."

"That is not true!" said Katherine tearfully. "George would never do that!"

"Wiltshire will expect an elevation," said Arthur uncertainly. "He is now the father-in-law of Katherine and will expect to be given a dukedom. The people will not like that. Many lords already dislike Wiltshire due to him being a mere knight before he was given the earldom of Wiltshire. Besides, there is Buckingham to consider…I only just broke his son's betrothal to Katherine."

"Lord Rochford does not have enough royal blood to wed a princess," Catherine added.

"Was your union consummated?" inquired Arthur.

"Yes," said Katherine tentatively. "We had witnesses too."

"Oh?" said Edmund, who had remained silent up to now. "Who?"

"I was the witness," said Mary boldly. "I wanted my sister happily married to a man she loves and I did not want their marriage under question as it is now. I was the witness and I had arranged for them to marry in front of my priest."

"You were the only witness?"

"Yes." She stared at him in the eye and repeated, "I was the only witness. It was a secret ceremony and I was the only witness. I would never betray Katherine for anything."

"And Lord Rochford and Katherine consummated their union?"

"Yes. _I was there_. I witnessed it."

"I must think of it," said Arthur with a sigh. "Clearly Katherine, your marriage with George had been consummated and you may have a chance of being with child. If I marry you off hastily…it might imply something that may damage your virtue. Your Eminence, please escort my sister to her chambers and ensure she stays there until this matter is over. Catherine, Henry, Edmund and Mary, we will talk of it again very shortly. This matter will be sorted before the end of the week, I can assure you of that."

* * *

**Thanks for pointing out the mistake in the wedding ceremony :) It should be fixed now. **


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter XIII

**January, 1523**

Wiltshire stalked in front of his fireplace as he fumed silently. He glowered as Anne entered his chambers in good spirits.

"What are you so pleased about?" he growled. "Are you delighted that your brother is now on his way to the Tower?"

Anne's mouth dropped open. "_What?_"

"Hmmph. Of course you are unaware of it. That butcher's son sent me a letter, telling me that George has been arrested. I must secure his release." He eyed Anne critically. "You are not young, yet you are not old. You are not as pretty as Mary, but you are not hideous either…"

"No," Anne said at once. "I will not seduce the King."

"Pah. Did I command you to enchant the King? Only a fool would try. We all know our beloved king is a man of honour who will never cheat on his wife. No, we have Mary as the Duke of York's mistress. The Duke of Somerset on the other hand…he is unmarried and had not taken a mistress of yet. Go and allure him. You are not exactly a beauty, but you will do. Once you have the Duke of Somerset in your thrall, convince him to persuade the King to release George and end Wolsey's career. That butcher's son has no right to be part of the Privy Council. It is even worse that the King listens to him more than he does to any of us nobles. It is time Wolsey is gone."

"I cannot do this."

"Yes you can! All men fall for womanly charms. If you claim to be a shrinking maiden, ask your sister for advice when it comes to the art of pleasuring men. I want George freed by tomorrow!"

"It will take time-"

"Time is not on our side! What if Wolsey convinces the King to execute him?!"

"I doubt that will happen, lord father. The King is a man of peace; beheading George will serve no purpose to him. However, George is my brother and I will speak to the Duke of Somerset. I will not resort to surrendering my virtue."

"You _will_ if you have to."

Anne almost rolled her eyes at her father's stubbornness. "As you wish, lord father," she lied. She curtsied almost mockingly before she walked out of her father's rooms. She had not seen Edmund since the feast celebrating the arrival of Charlotte de Valois and the Duke of Orléans which was odd, as for some time, he would often seek her out for a lively discussion.

She made her way to Edmund's chambers and was surprised to see it guarded by two men.

"I wish to see the Duke of Somerset," Anne said steadily.

"His Highness does not wish to be disturbed," answered a guard stonily.

"Not even to see me?"

"_Especially _you, my lady. His Highness has no desire to see you. It will be in your best interest to leave. I am willing to carry messages to His Highness if you wish."

"You will?"

"On my honour, my lady."

Anne thought for a moment. What could she possibly say to convince Edmund to summon her? It must not sound treasonous, but it must be intriguing…

"Our dance is not over," she said promptly. "Tell His Highness that please."

"Our dance is not over," the guard repeated. "Very well, my lady."

Anne nodded and went to the gardens, wishing she was at Windsor Castle. Here at Hampton Court, all the gardens were tended by the most devoted of gardeners. When Hampton Court still belonged to Wolsey, he had refined the gardens into the beautiful Italian style, reflecting his fine taste of artistic culture. She personally had never hated the Cardinal as fervently as her father, but she never viewed him as a friend or ally. Wolsey had the gardens cared for meticulously and it remained so – or even more – now that it was a possession of the King.

At Windsor Castle, the gardens are looked after, yes, and beautifully created in purely English style, but over the years, the gardeners had grown lax and left one garden – a small one hidden away by wild vines and gnarled trees – untamed. Upon chance, Anne and Edmund had discovered it one day during their many walks in Windsor Castle and immediately thought of it as their secret spot. Here in Hampton Court, they have decided the most unvisited garden to be their special place.

Reaching it, Anne sat under the oak tree and stared into the horizon. The wind danced with her black hair as her thoughts swirled lazily in her mind.

By the afternoon, Edmund had not appeared.

Heaving a sigh, Anne stood up and began the walk back to the Queen's chambers, hoping she would not be reprimanded for neglecting her duties. A couple of giggling maids had often slipped away during Mass or in the late afternoons when the Queen would ask a lady-in-waiting (usually Lady Willoughby) to read holy text, but Queen Catherine had never scolded them as of yet.

As she leisurely entered the castle, she almost crashed into a sprinting Lady Norris.

Anne stared at her; Lady Norris never ran.

"Lady Anne!" Lady Norris gasped, catching her breath. "Where have you been?! Her Grace had been summoning you repeatedly all morning!"

"Her Grace…Lady Suffolk?"

"Yes! She wishes to see you in her rooms at once!"

"Do you know why, Lady Norris?"

"No! She only says it is of the utmost importance! The Queen is not her usual self either; if you happen to see her on your way, it will be best if you avoid her. Something has happened, Lady Anne, something great. The King has been in his chambers all day; the Queen is in a foul mood; the Duchess of Suffolk is in a frantic and furious state; the Dukes of York and Somerset have been bickering more than usual; oh Anne! There's been no sight of the Princess Katherine!"

Anne continued staring at her as she absorbed the news. "The Princess is missing?"

"No! Cardinal Wolsey assures us she is well, but we have not seen her all day! You are close to the Princess, are you not?" Lady Norris looked at her intently.

"I'm sorry…I do not know what is happening at all."

"Oh." She sounded disappointed. "In any case, the Duchess of Suffolk wishes to see you at once."

Anne nodded and sped to Duchess Mary's chambers, her heart pounding fast.

"Your Grace," she said with a quick curtsey once the doors shut behind her. "Lady Norris tells me you wish to see me?"

"Yes," answered the Duchess, breathing heavily as she reached for a goblet of wine. "It is unlike you to ignore my summons all morning."

"A hundred pardons, Your Grace. I have not been…myself."

"Yes, your brother has been arrested."

"I am aware of that, Your Grace. May I ask on what grounds?"

The Duchess snorted. "Trumped up charges invented by that butcher's son! Originally he arrested Lord Rochford for marrying a royal princess without the King's consent or knowledge – true enough – but then he began informing the King that Rochford is plotting treason!"

"_What?!_ My brother will never-"

"He would've gotten away with a heavy fine and a pardon for marrying Katherine, but that Wolsey _just _had to poison the King's indecisive, feeble mind!"

"Your Grace!"

"It is the truth! For your own good, you must convince the rest of the court that you played no part in Katherine's wedding to Rochford. Presently, the court is unaware of their marriage, but it wouldn't be long before they hear of it. I have told the King that I was the sole witness to their wedding and I intend to keep it that way. Now I must ask you this: did you tell anyone about your brother's secret wedding ceremony with Katherine?" She looked at Anne seriously.

"No!" Ann exclaimed hotly. "Your Grace! I have not mentioned it to anyone!"

"As I thought. I did not wish to ask that mind you. It could not be my priest. I paid him more than he deserved to keep quiet about it."

"Could someone have followed us?"

"We were quite discreet about it…" She thought for a moment. "However, it is possible. Why inform the Cardinal though? If one desires reward, why not tell the King and Queen? And why did the Cardinal wait until the morning to arrest Rochford? If he was told whilst my priest was conducting the ceremony, doubt over the consummation would not be needed. Why would the Cardinal think Rochford seduced Katherine? He is not like my husband."

"George does not seduce women for fun," Anne agreed.

"Arthur will be as indecisive as ever. Catherine will urge for divorce – one thing Wolsey will agree on – while Henry and I will ask Arthur to be merciful and acknowledge the match for the sake of love. Edmund…I don't know what he will do."

"Why wouldn't he support Katherine?"

"Edmund…I fear he can be more like our father than anyone thinks. Henry has most definitely inherited traits from King Edward IV; Arthur is more of both our father and Edward IV. He is ever so merciful, yet serious. As for Edmund, I do not know. He is clearly not interested in sleeping with women like my husband and Henry, yet he is not a miser."

"_Would_ he support Katherine?"

Duchess Mary shrugged. "I guess we will wait and see. I pray the Staffords never hear of this or there will be a rebellion on our doorstep."

"Your Grace…they will find out about it eventually."

"I hope after Buckingham's heir marries."

"Will George be executed?"

Duchess Mary considered it. "Buckingham will insist upon it – if he hears of it that is – but there will be some of us who will beg for clemency. Wolsey must dislike you Boleyns more than Charles, otherwise he wouldn't have arrested Rochford."

"Perhaps Wolsey thought it would be better to aid you and Lord Suffolk due to Lord Suffolk being a good friend of His Highness of York?"

"Possibly. Then again, Wolsey never liked your father."

"My father loathes Wolsey too."

Duchess Mary laughed. "Not many courtiers admire Wolsey. I admit, apart from his low birth and arrogance, he is a man of good taste. The gardens here are proof of his artistic mind, as is the architecture of the castle. If only he could redesign the Tower of London! It would then be a much cosier place to dwell in. Apart from that, Wolsey is loyal to the King…too loyal."

"What will happen if Katherine's marriage to George is annulled?"

"You have always been quite intelligent. You tell me."

Anne thought for a minute before saying slowly, "Princess Katherine will be married off to a prince quickly and George too…unless he is executed. The Queen will insist on Katherine wedding one of her relatives and tired of argument, the King will agree. After that, Katherine will be shipped off to either Spain, Portugal or Austria and her marriage with George will be forgotten. Hopefully."

"Very good Anne. Though of course, that is what everyone will think of. Either Catherine will insist upon it or send Katherine into a nunnery. The Queen is a pious woman and may think a royal princess taking the veil will bring God closer to England."

"The common folk will approve."

"Yes, but they also love wedding festivities."

"Please Your Grace…George is my only brother. I cannot bear it if he is executed."

"Katherine is my sister too. For now, there is not much you can do. You are a Boleyn and the Queen and the Cardinal finally found common ground; hatred towards your family. Remember, you are not supposed to be aware of this. I will try my best to convince the King to recognise Rochford and Katherine's marriage, I promise. However, if the results are not in our favour, there is nothing we can do."

Anne nodded. "I understand."

"I kept you here long enough," Duchess Mary decided. "You better run along to Catherine's chambers and be prepared for a scolding. Her mood had not improved after her noon prayers."

* * *

As the Duchess warned, Catherine greeted Anne with a cold, stoic glare as Anne entered her rooms and mumbled an apology for her unexplained absence. After she settled down with her embroidery, she noticed something amiss. Her Shelton and Howard cousins were nowhere in sight and her sister Mary also seemed to be missing.

Anne edged towards the mousy Jane Seymour and asked, "What has happened?"

Jane blinked. "The Queen has decided to rearrange her household." Her watery blue eyes widened as she remembered something. "You are to pack and leave by tomorrow morning."

"What?"

"Lady Anne!" Catherine called as she beckoned her to her side.

"Your Majesty," said Anne cautiously, immediately noticing Lady Willoughby's smug smile.

"You have served me well for almost a year," the Queen said almost pleasantly, her blue eyes colder than ever. "Her Grace of Suffolk had spoken the truth about you and I must admit, you are one of my most trustworthy and hardworking ladies. However, the time has come for me to bid you farewell. It will be in your best interest to return to Hever until Easter when I may summon you to return."

"I am not with child nor incapacitated, Your Majesty. I am still able to serve."

The Queen laughed harshly. "You have a wedding to prepare for, do you not?"

"A…a wedding, Your Majesty?"

"Why so surprised, Lady Anne? You are most certainly of age to be wed."

"Will it be Sir James Butler, Your Majesty?"

The Queen laughed again. "Oh no, Lady Anne! Sir James Butler is now betrothed to Lady Joan Fitzgerald – with the full consent of James Butler's father."

"Pray inform me, Your Majesty. Who am I to wed?" She desperately attempted to keep calm; the Queen clearly bore no love for her anymore and if she had a hand in selecting a husband for her, Anne would not be surprised if he came from a family that loathed her own family.

The Queen's cold smile only widened. "And ruin the surprise, Lady Anne? Oh no. You will be courted and married within a few months I hope. Your suitor (or suitors) will ride to Hever and court you. Isn't that what every highborn lady wants?"

"Oh yes, Your Majesty," chirped a Grey lady. "Lady Anne is so fortunate she will be courted by her suitors in such a chivalrous manner!"

"Is my lord father aware of it?" said Anne, ignoring her.

"He will be," said Lady Willoughby smoothly. "I hope you have a pleasant journey to Hever, Lady Anne. I heard it is a place of serenity and tranquillity. Perfect for you to dedicate yourself to prayers."

"Indeed, Lady Willoughby," said Anne sarcastically. "Indeed."

She resisted from snapping further at the smug Spanish lady and stalked out. As she went into her own apartments and stared out the window, she felt her future drift away from her. How would she find a good husband all the way from Hever? Oh wait, the Queen had already selected one for her. How would she be remembered by generations to come when she is banished from court?

"Unlike you to give in so easily, Lady Anne."

The Queen's skirts rustled as she slowed herself at the door. She eyed Anne with interest. "I see you have not packed yet."

"Please Your Majesty, I would like some time alone," muttered Anne.

"You already did Lady Anne. This morning."

"Is this some sort of punishment for me just because I bear the name Boleyn?"

"Do you think it is punishment?"

"Well, Your Majesty, George is in the Tower on the grounds of _trumped up charges_, everyone thinks my sister is a harlot, my cousins have disappeared from your service, and you openly dismissed me _and _banished me to Hever. Yes, my queen, I think it is punishment."

"How…interesting." The Queen glanced at Anne's pristinely clean vanity table and then her bookshelf filled with thick volumes. "I heard fascinating news from the Duke of Somerset this morning."

Anne's heart skipped a beat. "How does that affect me, Your Majesty?"

"He confessed he was quite fond of you."

"No…you must be mistaken, Your Majesty. The Duke of Somerset and I-"

"I find it amusing two Boleyns managed to ensnare the hearts of a Tudor prince and princess. Don't you find it amusing, Lady Anne? No? Edmund admitted he was hurt when he overheard Lord Henry Percy proclaim his love for you and desire to take you as his wife. He further confessed to following you last night and unintentionally became a witness to Katherine and Lord Rochford's secret wedding ceremony. Out of spite, he informed Wolsey. However, when the Duchess of Suffolk declared herself the sole witness and the Duke of York vowed to support Katherine through this matter, Edmund professed his confession to me and could not bear speaking to you about it."

"What?"

"You broke Edmund's heart, Lady Anne."

"I did not expect Lord Henry Percy to declare his intentions towards me so openly nor so soon, Your Majesty. I did not even know the Duke of Somerset loves me."

"You are indeed a strange woman, Lady Anne. Other women would've noticed love in seconds. You apparently are still not aware of it."

"You plan to send me to Hever as punishment for breaking Lord Somerset's heart?"

"No…I want you to mend my brother-in-law's heart."

Anne stared at her, shocked. "Your Majesty?"

"One matter you must know: I will never agree with Cardinal Wolsey. He supports a French alliance, and I will always urge England to side with Spain. I must admit, I was astonished when I heard of Katherine's marriage to Lord Rochford, but after His Eminence urged for his execution, I decided I'd rather have Rochford alive and with his head in place."

"You will help my brother to _provoke_ His Eminence even further?"

A hint of a smile appeared on the Queen's face. "You could think it that way. I believe Her Grace of Suffolk insists that I am finally in agreement with Wolsey?"

Anne nodded dumbly.

"That is no surprise," the Queen remarked. "Of course Mary will skip to that thought. During a private meal with my family, I had openly announced my disgust for your family and your dismissal to Hever. Lady Carey would've joined you, but the Duke of York insisted for her to remain in court. Again, not a surprise as she is his mistress. Her Grace called me heartless, but I dismissed it; I told her she was overly fond of you and blinded by your family's icy ambition. Edmund was silent, but I wager he will ride straight to Hever in a few days' time and beg for your forgiveness. I hope by Easter, the two of you will ask for the King's consent to wed." Her smile grew warmer as she continued, "I trust you will follow the law and marry with our blessing, unlike your brother? His Eminence will be horrified; a Boleyn girl playing mistress to the Duke of York, the Boleyn heir married to a Tudor princess and the other Boleyn girl wedded to the King's youngest brother, the Duke of Somerset."

"Your Majesty…" Anne said carefully. "Am I part of your plan to humiliate the Cardinal?"

The Queen only laughed. "You better start packing, Lady Anne. I will not see you at supper. It will be best for you to have it in your room."

As she turned to leave, Anne called, "Why, Your Majesty? Why me?"

The Queen paused. "Convenience, Lady Anne? I always expected a nobleman to come along and sweep Katherine off her feet one day. Wolsey urges for her to be married off politically, the King wants her to stay in England but he also desires her to be a queen or duchess. Of course I would've preferred Katherine married to one of royal blood, but I have always thought of her as a younger sister or even a daughter. After her mother Elizabeth died, Lady Margaret Beaufort took her into her care. I deplored it. The first thing I did when I was crowned queen was removing Katherine from Lady Margaret's custody. She was only a girl of seven, but she seemed happier with me than with her formidable grandmother. Did you know there were rumours back then that Lady Margaret will persuade the King – whether it was King Henry VII or my husband, I don't know – to send Katherine to a nunnery?"

"I was a child at that time, Your Majesty."

The Queen ignored her. "I wanted Katherine to have a happy childhood and she did. Then came the marriage proposals…none of us could agree on a suitable husband for Katherine. Henry was easy; he is the King's brother and handsome. Finding a princess for him was simple. Margaret was already married to the King of Scots, and the King needed a new ally, which secured Elizabeth's marriage to the Duke of Cleves. Mary had always been difficult. She should've been honoured at the prospect of being Queen of France, but clearly she thought it was punishment. If her husband had lived longer, she would've had a son and would be the Queen Mother of France presently, or even the regent. King Francis would've had to remain Duke of Brittany by the right of his wife."

"Your Majesty…are you angry at Katherine wedding my brother or not?"

"Blunt, aren't you?" the Queen gave her a mysterious look and with a swish of her skirts, she exited, leaving Anne without a clear answer.

With a sigh, Anne began packing her clothes and books into a chest, wondering if she would ever return to court again. God, her father would be furious.

George in the Tower, herself exiled to Hever…

If Mary was not the Duke of York's mistress, she would be banished from court too.

Anne took a deep breath and began sorting her jewellery into a smaller box. She stopped as she glanced at a simple ring wrought of a silver band and tiny rubies. "I will be back," she told herself as her heart swelled with determination. Her mind began whirling and her eyes grew brighter. "I will be back," she repeated more confidently.

Oh yes, she will return; not as her father's pawn, the Queen's pawn or anyone's pawn. She will leave court a defeated checker, but will return – as a player.

* * *

**Next chapter there will be a small time jump (probably a few months) :) **


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter XIV

**April, 1523**

_Our dance is not over._

Edmund threw an apple up in the air and caught it for the third time as Anne's words echoed in his head for the fifth time that month. To his notion, Anne had been banished to Hever for being a Boleyn; Catherine had informed him it was the perfect time to ride to Hever and beg Anne's forgiveness whilst begin her courtship. Edmund was wary of it.

He had been a fool all those months ago to tell Catherine about his secret affections for Anne. To Catherine the loving sister-in-law, he thought she would keep it a secret from everyone – especially Anne – and help him find another noblewoman to love; he did not expect Catherine the Queen to use one of his deepest secrets for her own purpose.

Cautious of his next move, Edmund had resisted the temptation of riding to Hever up to now. In doing so, he found court more stifling and boring than ever. Courtiers did nothing but gossip about each other and family dinners consisted of Mary snapping at Catherine and Katherine's silent tears filling her empty bowl. Henry had once suggested inviting Lady Carey to dine with them; Arthur still refused to speak to him over that incident.

With a sigh, Edmund stood up and stared out the window.

_Our dance is not over._

"Stop it," he muttered to himself as he poured himself a cup of ale to soothe his nerves. "You are not here Anne. You are in Hever. You are still in Hever."

_Am I? _

Edmund almost threw his goblet across the room in frustration; why is Anne Boleyn still on his mind after she broke his heart? It was clear Lord Percy was a lovesick fool and wanted to marry her. Why not? He is a nobleman – a Percy no less – and Anne is a noblewoman. Some would even say Anne was too common to marry a prince like Edmund. Perhaps Edmund _should_ convince Arthur to wed Anne to Lord Henry Percy and then inquire about a match for himself. He was not old, yet he longed to settle down and end the mooning looks the ladies of the court give him. He was not Henry; sleeping around with women and competing with other lusty men was never one of his dreams.

Even though Catherine had hinted it was a good time for him to chase after Anne, she had helpfully provided him with a list of available princesses who were either widowed young, ripe for marriage, from a family England may consider an alliance with, or a rich heiress. Edmund had glanced at it a few times, but never took it seriously.

After draining another cup of ale, Edmund settled down and began munching the apple as he studied the list. He almost laughed as he read the first offered princess: Catalina, Infanta of Spain and Archduchess of Austria. Catalina was one of Catherine's nieces – youngest daughter of Queen Juana 'the Mad' of Castile and Philip I of Castile – and her namesake. It came as no surprise that Catherine would plan to unite Spain and England closer in matrimony. Edmund crossed off her name with a single stroke; England's alliance with Spain was already cemented through Catherine and Arthur's marriage, and would be further secured through his niece, Princess Mary's marriage to the Emperor. Besides, he doubted the Emperor would want his sister to marry the King of England's youngest brother.

Edmund snorted as he crossed the second name off: Princess Anna of Bohemia and Hungary. She was the King of Bohemia and Hungary's only daughter, and there were talks of wedding Anna to the Emperor's brother, Archduke Ferdinand. He crossed off more names before glancing carefully at the remaining three: the French noblewoman and heiress Anne de Laval; the widowed Louise Borgia, _suo jure_ Duchess of Valentinois and Dame de Chalus (daughter of the infamous Cesar Borgia); and finally Infanta Isabel of Braganza, a slightly distant Portuguese cousin of Catherine's.

He tapped his desk thoughtfully. The Cardinal would be pleased if he chose either Anne de Laval or Louise Borgia to wed…but French alliances had never been particularly successful. Catherine would be delighted at him for choosing a Portuguese infanta as his bride; the Portuguese have been more reliable and a King of Portugal once wed the granddaughter of an English king – would the present King of Portugal permit one of his cousins to wed the youngest brother of the King of England? Edmund blotted a dot beside Infanta Isabel's name, deciding he will consider it further at another time. If he did decide to take her as his wife, he better learn a little Portuguese. Perhaps Catherine could teach him a few sentences – surely she would speak and understand Portuguese!

Edmund wondered if falling in love again would be as easy as loving Anne. Many ladies would throw themselves at his feet, but he did not want that. He wanted a woman who is not afraid to speak her mind, who does not bleat polite words and agree with everything he says or suggests. He wanted a woman whose wit is as charming as her beauty – if not more – with affection and understanding of the common folk. He wanted Anne Boleyn.

"I have been a caged bird for far too long," he said aloud. "It is time I tasted freedom." On a sudden impulse, he left his chambers, heading straight for the stables. It was only the morning and he had all day to ride to Hever. "I need a horse," he ordered the frazzled stable boys. "The fastest and strongest one available! Quickly now!"

The two stable boys hastily scrambled to their feet and rushed to find a horse as Edmund stood by the door, waiting impatiently.

"Hurry!" he almost yelled.

"Apologies, Your Highness!" one squeaked, visibly shaking as he brought a sturdy-looking chestnut horse towards him. "This one is the best in the stables!"

"My thanks," said Edmund, handing them a small pouch of coins. "If the King – or anyone – asks about me, tell them I have gone on…a pilgrimage."

"A pilgrimage, Your Highness?"

"Yes. A pilgrimage." Edmund swung onto the horse and rode off, his thoughts primarily dwelling only on Anne. After galloping across a few bridges and roads, it suddenly hit him.

He had no clue how to ride to Hever.

* * *

John III, Duke of Cleves summoned his eight year old daughter into his study, wondering if his decision to send her to England was right.

Even though he mourned Elizabeth's death, he had reluctantly contemplated the thought of remarriage, his choice of bride landing on the wealthy heiress, Princess Maria of Jülich-Berg. She was not young, but her ambassador assured him she was still fertile. Besides, she had rich lands and titles and even if she only manages to birth a girl with him, she will inherit the estates of Jülich-Berg and Ravensberg whilst his Anna will inherit his duchy of Cleves.

"My dear child," John said warmly, embracing Anna as she ran in. "You are well?"

"Yes Papa," said Anna brightly. _God, her eyes…she has Elizabeth's eyes_. "You look well too!"

"I am," agreed John, even though he was plagued with problems. "How are your studies? I can see your English has improved remarkably."

"I have mastered Latin and French and I hope to be fluent in English quickly. My mother was an English princess and I wish to speak as well as her."

_You already seem like an English rose to me. _

"What else have you excelled in?" said John kindly.

"Needlework." Anna showed him a piece of embroidery she had spent her time sewing. He smiled as he saw it was a crown between two roses.

"Very pretty," John complimented. "Your mother would be delighted at you. How would you feel about having a new mother?"

Anna blinked. "I have a mother." A short moment of uncomfortable silence passed, before she corrected herself, "_Had_ a mother."

"What do you think of another one? You may have siblings of your own eventually."

"I have Cousin Johann for company. He is kind to me and I think him as a brother."

"What about siblings of your own?" John pressed.

"I suppose I will love them," Anna said placidly.

John smiled. No matter how much it pained him to remarry swiftly, he hoped he would wed Maria of Jülich-Berg before Christmas or New Year. He loved Anna and would not even think of trading her for a dozen sons, but the majority of his councillors had openly declared their intentions not to support Anna as his heiress – even if she happens to wed his nephew Johann. They were keen on unifying Cleves with Jülich-Berg with both duchies ruled by John. He knew it would be imperative to keep the duchies unified after his death, and the only way to do that is to sire a male heir.

"What about England?" said John, changing the subject. "Are you excited to go?"

Anna nodded, her blue eyes sparkling at the anticipation of meeting her maternal relatives. "I cannot wait to see England!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "Mama always said it was the most beautiful kingdom in all of Christendom – apart from Cleves of course – and I am excited to see Mama's brothers and sisters." A spark of excitement faded away as she said quietly, "But I will have to leave you Papa. And Cousin Johann…and Buttons."

Buttons was one of John's podgier diplomats. When he first met Anna, he had the unfortunate incident of bursting two buttons. Since then, Anna had christened him 'Buttons' and she declared him her second friend – after her cousin Johann.

"Buttons will be with you," said John gently. Even though Buttons enjoyed his supper more than hunting or sports, he was clever and a capable ambassador. "When you get a brother or two, I will send your cousin to England to join you," he promised.

"What about you?" said Anna worriedly.

"The people of Cleves need me here, my sweet Anna! Soon you will transform into a beautiful English lady and forget about your old papa."

"I will never forget you Papa!" She squealed as he lifted her in the air as he did often when she was an infant. "Come with me to England!" she commanded.

John laughed. "When you return, you would hardly recognise your old papa! When you come back, you will be ready to marry and be a mother."

Anna looked worried. "I don't want to marry," she said uncertainly. "I will have to leave you again…I don't want to leave you Papa."

"All little girls will eventually. Mama will want you married and to be happy."

Anna nodded bravely. "When will I leave for England?"

"Hmm…next month? It is almost summer and you will love the English summer."

"Next month!"

"Yes my dear Anna. Your uncles wish to see you and you would be happier in England than here. You will have more cousins in England and there is a more pleasant atmosphere there – according to the Englishmen here. I will write to you often, and I will never forget you."

"Even when you remarry and have other children?"

John nodded, kissing her on the cheek. "You will always be my sweet girl," he vowed. "Even if I get a dozen sons, I will love you the most. Now, what will you take with you to England?"

* * *

The Duke of York laid back lazily on his bed and lustily watched Mary Carey slowly strip herself of her finery. He could not wait to have her again…

"Henry," said Mary shyly, climbing onto the bed. "I have news."

"Oh?" said Henry languidly. "What will that be?"

"I am with child."

Henry bolted upright, his eyes bugging out. "You are with child?"

"Yes, my lord!" said Mary Carey, beaming brightly.

"Are…are you certain it is mine? Have you slept with your own husband of late?"

"No Henry! I have not seen my lord husband in months! You know as well as I do that I have spent the last few months only with you! Are you not pleased, Henry? I will give you a son!"

Henry forced himself to smile. "That is wonderful news, my Mary! How many months along?"

"A couple of weeks I suppose. I have not yet bled and other ladies have said it is a sign that I am with child. Isn't it glorious, Henry?"

_No it is not. Arthur already shows disdain at my Hal. If he hears I have another bastard, he will banish me from court. Oh why must I have such a loveless fool for a brother? Why couldn't he be more like me and sire a bastard or two as well? At least then he would know the thrill of sleeping with women other than your wife and having more children_. "It is wonderful," Henry repeated, kissing his mistress on the cheek. "Are you certain your bleeding is not just late?"

Mary shrugged. "If it is, so be it." She smiled. "I am certain I am with child though."

"Have you thought of names yet?"

"I hope it is a son. If it is, I will call me Henry, after you. If I do happen to have a girl…I thought it would be ideal to name her Catherine to honour the Queen."

_You fool. Why would you name a bastard after the Queen? _

"Lovely," lied Henry, his affection for Mary Carey melting away a little. "Absolutely delightful choice of name, dear Mary."

"Would you prefer a different name for our child, Henry?"

"I always wanted to name my daughter Elizabeth…" _I will never give my blessed mother's name to a bastard. It will tarnish my mother's good name._

"If you do not mind me asking, my lord, but why didn't you name your daughter Elizabeth?"

Henry was silent. Choosing a name for his daughter was the first argument he ever had with his late wife, Anne d'Alençon. He had been slightly disappointed when Anne presented him with a daughter, but it only augmented into irritation when she asked to name their child Margaret, after her mother and his formidable grandmother. Henry had loved his mother and already planned to name his daughter Elizabeth, but – for once – Anne insisted on naming their child Margaret.

Customarily, the child would be named after his or her father's relative first (as the King and Queen did in christening their son after his grandfather), but Anne did not listen. The Queen attempted to persuade Anne to see reason; Elizabeth was a name suited better for the elder daughter than the second, but that only made Anne more hysterical.

Honourably, Henry relented and allowed his first child to be called Margaret. He promised himself his next legitimate daughter will be named Elizabeth – even if he had to argue all day for it.

"My late wife wanted to name her after her mother," Henry said finally.

Mary sighed dreamily. "You are so chivalrous, my Henry! We can name our daughter after your mother if it pleases you!"

"No need," Henry assured her. "We will name her Catherine, after the Queen." He thought for a moment. "Has your sister married yet?"

"Anne? Not yet. I thought she would wed Lord Northumberland's heir or our Butler cousin, but she had not married either of them."

"Perhaps she plans to join the convent."

Mary laughed vibrantly. "Oh no! Anne will never be a nun! I suppose our father has not found her the right husband yet."

Henry nodded absently. "Anne…"

"Do you remember her, Henry?"

"A little. Tall, black haired and dark eyed?"

"That's Anne. You would love talking to her. She always has an answer or an argument. Father says she has inherited wit, charm and good looks whilst I am only gifted in good looks."

Henry laughed, kissing her again. "That is not true! You are kind; my Lady Kindness. You are one of the sweetest ladies I ever met! That sister of yours must be a hell cat! Who would want a lady gifted with wit and stubbornness eh?"

He kissed her for the final time before sending her back to her chambers. He poured himself a cup of wine as he stared out the window. Mary had been an entertaining plaything and he quite enjoyed the tricks she learnt from France. No whore in England could match her undeniable skills on the bed. He chuckled slightly. However, he was getting bored with her. He needed someone else to satisfy his desires, and he wanted one with spirit.

He wondered if Mary spoke true about her sister. It would be interesting to have his own views challenged – though not too far of course. He laughed as he remembered his previous two mistresses, the Duke of Buckingham's sister Lady Hastings, and Bessie Blount. Ah… Lady Hastings was a beauty; tall, pale and clever. Alas, the affair with her only lasted a short period of time. After a flurry of letters, flowers and small gifts, he and Lady Hastings consummated their relationship with kisses and embraces. They were quite discreet about it, but somehow Buckingham discovered it and complained to the King – who happened to dislike womanisers. Lady Hastings's husband, George Hastings, 1st Earl of Huntingdon, was also furious (as expected of a cuckolded husband) and sent his wife into a convent, effectively ending Henry's affair with her.

As for Bessie Blount…he felt his loins stir as he thought of her. She was a sweet thing. Quite like Mary Carey, but slightly more demanding. She had given him a son whom he doted on, but wanted more. She wanted titles for their son, even a letter of legitimisation. Even Henry thought the latter was too much – Arthur would never legitimise a bastard, especially one that is not his. Soon enough, sweet Bessie lost her charm and delightfulness and Henry begged Arthur to marry her off to a courtier. Lately, Henry's eyes had roved at rather pretty ladies during feasts and wondered which one he should bed next. Usually he would discuss it with Suffolk, but after Katherine's clandestine marriage to Rochford…he thought it would be wiser to remain faithful to Mary for a while.

Henry snorted. As if Suffolk would be the devoted husband for long.

He pondered if it was a wise idea to wed again. It wasn't the first time he considered it, but now he thought of it seriously. Sleeping around with women is fun, but his debts have began to pile on a mountainous stack on his table, and he longed for an heir to succeed him in the dukedom of York. He knew he was capable of siring sons, but choosing a bride…

_She must be beautiful,_ he thought, deciding whether to eat a nice, juicy chicken leg or a large slice of pigeon pie. _She must have wit and come from a virtuous family – English of course. I do not want to be fooled by a portrait. Of course I have little chance in succeeding Arthur as King of England, but as a man, I still want a good brood of sons. Arthur always loved Meg. If I present him a legitimate son, who knows? Perhaps he might be given an earldom upon his first birthday or something._ He smiled. It will be a ceremony he's looking forward to.

A sudden thought jabbed him. Why not take Anne Boleyn as his wife?

Anne Boleyn was certainly alluring – not your average beauty, but she is still a pleasant sight – and according to her sister, was not afraid to speak up. She came from a good family; her father is the Earl of Wiltshire and her mother is a Howard, descended from King Edward I of England. He chuckled. If Mary could pleasure him so skilfully, Anne should be able to as well. After all, both the Boleyn sisters were educated for a period of time in France.

Even if Mary Boleyn is unmarried, Henry would not think twice of marrying her. She would bore him a year or two after marriage and he would always find another mistress. As for Anne Boleyn…she could have an entertaining argument with him once in a while.

On a whim, he decided to visit Hever Castle to…inspect Anne. If she was all he hoped for in a potential bride, he will court her chivalrously and then ask her hand in marriage. He lightened up and began making plans to travel there…only to remember the Boleyns were not high in favour.

It would not be wise for him to court a lady whose brother still languishes in the Tower.

_I guess I will find another bride,_ Henry thought, dismissing Anne from his mind. _It wouldn't be too hard to pick a wife, now would it?_

* * *

Arthur picked at his food uncomfortably.

"What is it, lord husband?" said Catherine, sensing his unsettling nerves. "Is something amiss? Are you ill again? Should I send for the physician?"

"I'm well," Arthur said quickly. "I received news."

"Oh?" She delicately placed a grape in her mouth. "What is it?"

"Your cousin, the Holy Roman Emperor…he wishes for us to send our Mary to Spain."

Catherine raised an eyebrow. "Is he aware our daughter is only seven?"

"I don't know. I suppose he knows. Well, he should know. Chapuys keeps his master updated about Mary's health, doesn't he?"

"Of course. Chapuys is his ambassador after all."

"Should we sent Mary to Spain?"

"Perhaps Charles wishes Mary to be in Spain early for her to be raised into the future Queen of Spain and Holy Roman Empress? It will do her good to settle in her future home early."

"So I should?"

"If we refuse, Charles may look elsewhere for a bride for suited to his age. Indeed, he is betrothed to Mary, but what if he is restless and desires an heir?"

Arthur sighed miserably. "I don't want to send our daughter away. She is my pearl and an English princess. I don't want her changed into a Spaniard. You were Spanish and when you came to England, you became my dear queen. However Mary is still a child. What if the Spaniards install stern Catholicism into her at such a young age?"

Catherine stared at him sternly. "We all worship the Almighty. Those who don't are heretics. Yes, there has been rumours of this New Faith, but our children will be as true to Rome as we are. I understand your desire for peace in England, but what about our souls? God may not be pleased with you if you think of tolerating the New faith here in England."

"She is our daughter," murmured Arthur sadly. "I care about all our souls and perpetual peace in England, but Catherine, Mary is our child…our eldest daughter…"

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter :D **


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter XV

**April, 1523**

Bored and in a slightly irritable mood, Anne sat in front of the fireplace and watched the flames greedily lick the letter away.

It was the end of April and she still had not been summoned back to court.

For a sharp girl like Anne, staying isolated in Hever without a piece of news was one of the worst tortures she ever endured.

She passed the days through reading volumes of dusty books in the Hever library, writing dozens of letters to send to the still imprisoned George and the pregnant Mary. She even wrote a few for the Duchess of Suffolk which she had not yet sent. In the afternoons, she would visit and converse with her paternal grandmother, Lady Margaret Boleyn (née Butler) whose mind seemed to be trapped in the past. At first, it was entertaining to listen about her father's childhood, but over the months, it grew tedious and Anne was certain she memorised the story about her father and the rabbits.

"Your father had craved rabbit pie for months," the elderly Lady Boleyn would say as she crammed sweetmeats into her mouth. "He was only a boy back then…no older than a lad of ten. At that time, we weren't as well off as we are now. Thomas would always ask for rabbit pie and it broke my heart to say no. Well, you know your father." She chuckled. "He wouldn't back away from a challenge.

"One day, he went out into the fields with his brothers. When he returned, he spotted a rabbit scampering into the nearby woods. He wanted to follow them, but his father had forbade him or his siblings to go in there. Every day, he would watch a rabbit or two race there, his mouth watering for rabbit pie. On the fourth day, he had enough. He built a snare and caught a rabbit. With one clean cut, he killed it and brought it back home for us to make rabbit pie. His father was furious; he asked Thomas why he disobeyed his orders, but Thomas said he didn't! That clever boy had caught the rabbit _before_ it ran for the woods! That night, we ate rabbit pie; every day after that, Thomas would catch a rabbit or two and send it to us, as proud as a rooster. By the week's end, we were all mightily sick of rabbit! Not Thomas – he would never stop eating rabbit pie."

_Like he never stops plotting,_ thought Anne.

Since her banishment to Hever, Wiltshire had not written to her once; her grandmother told her that he only sent her a letter once a few months. Anne was horrified, but Lady Boleyn waved it off with a placid smile and said, "He is so like his father, my William. Always busy, always working. You are fortunate to have him as a father, young Anne."

Before Easter, Anne's aunt (and Lady Boleyn's eldest daughter), Lady Shelton, had paid her a short and impromptu visit. "You are sorely missed at court," Lady Shelton told her. "A few gentlemen – Sir Henry Norris and Thomas Wyatt I believe – have begged the Queen to reinstate you back at court as one of her ladies-in-waiting, but she had not said anything about it. Courtiers are whispering the King and Queen are unhappy in their marriage which was a reason for your brother's arrest and Princess Katherine's house arrest. The common folk think otherwise. They believe the wicked Lord Rochford seduced the poor, innocent princess and forced her to marry him. The rumours have rose so high that the King is afraid of releasing your brother."

Anne's heart had skipped a beat. "There wouldn't be a trial?"

"My dear niece! The King is merciful! He wouldn't even think of executing George! He hates the thought of unnecessary bloodshed. However, the Cardinal is pushing for George's execution and I heard words that the Queen is siding with him. Do not fear, Anne. I doubt the Queen would demand George's execution – what would she gain from it? The people's displeasure? I also heard that George is in relative comfort in the Tower. He is fed well and given books and writing material. The Cardinal had wanted to throw him in the dungeons with the common criminals, but the King insisted George be given rooms suited to his station as the son of an Earl."

"Oh, thank God! Will he ever be freed?"

"Perhaps in a few months' time." Lady Shelton's brow furrowed. "The King is in need of a diplomat in Scotland and the Queen had recommended George. The Cardinal will not want it…"

Anne sighed. If Wolsey had not been noticed by Richard Foxe, he wouldn't be recommended to be a member of the Privy Council. Oh, her life would've been so much easier if that Wolsey did not have the King's ear! Earlier, she'd hoped Wolsey would die of illness, but after he recovered from a bout of Sweating Sickness, Anne grudgingly had to stop wishing him dead.

As she reminisced of her life in the French court, a maid approached her. "My lady, there is an unexpected visitor for you."

"Who is it?" said Anne impatiently.

"He would not say his name, my lady."

"Is he a farmer? A priest? A nobleman? A merchant?"

"He looks well-dressed, my lady."

Anne almost shouted at her with irritation. "Why is he here then?!"

"He gives no reason, my lady."

Huffing angrily, she stormed out and went to the entrance hall, prepared to berate the unforeseen guest passionately…before she froze in shock. "Edmund?"

Standing in front of her in windswept garbs and a relieved grin, Edmund nodded, peeling off his riding gloves. "Can I trouble you with meat and wine?" he said sheepishly. "I have not eaten for hours and the last meal I had consisted of two meagre apples. Perhaps a room for the night too? I doubt I am in any condition to travel back home."

Anne nodded, speechless. Her dark green skirts swivelled around her as she turned to the dust-coated feasting hall. Her grandmother spoke often of the feasts she hosted in her days when she was younger and the mistress of Hever Castle; those days have ended as the feasting hall was seldom used. Often, Anne took her meals in her chambers or in front of the fireplace whilst Lady Boleyn had maids carry trays of food up to her in her rooms. As there were a slight shortage of servants and maids, the feasting hall was not looked after as well as the other more frequented rooms of Hever Castle.

"Forgive me for the dust, my lord prince," Anne said stiffly, gesturing for him to sit at the head of the table. "I did not expect you. I will have servants bring you a hearty meal immediately." Before Edmund could speak, she hurried to the kitchens, a rush of emotions running in her mind. He finally came, she thought as she told the cook of their unexpected guest. Why so long? Was he held back by the King due to matters of state; could he be here to inform me of an impending betrothal to a royal princess or a rich English heiress? If he does, it is courteous for him to do so. Not many princes will speak to their…close female companions of it.

"I will rustle something up at once, my lady," the cook promised. "Is there anything in particular His Highness would like to eat?"

_Edmund's favourite is honey and cinnamon tart._ "No," Anne lied. "Anything would do."

"As you say, my lady."

Anne returned to the feasting hall and sat on his right. "What are you doing here, my prince?" she said bluntly. "You could've stayed at any palace, castle or manor, and you decided to ask for hospitality at my home here in Hever."

"I came to see you," answered Edmund promptly. "I always wanted to, but I did not know whether Catherine was playing me or not. I set off for Hever a few days ago, but I did not know the way. I asked a few knights and priests and eventually found my way here."

"It seems you had quite a journey, my prince."

"Indeed. I hope Arthur is not worried."

"The King is not aware of your journey here?"

Edmund shook his head. "I asked the stable boys to tell him I was going on a pilgrimage."

Anne arched an eyebrow. "I doubt the King will believe that."

He shrugged. "The King will believe what he chooses to believe. Why are you here alone? I thought you would be entertained by plenty of Boleyn cousins."

"They live at Blickling Hall or in some other manors. They hardly visit me here."

"Oh."

Silence descended as two servants delivered a hot bowl of soup, half a loaf of bread, a plate of cold meat and a large flagon of ale.

"Thank you," said Anne, dismissing the servants with a curt nod. She began slicing the bread in even pieces, her hand slightly shaking as she felt Edmund's gaze upon her. _Stop staring at me,_ she thought grouchily. _I'm not a horse in the market nor a whore in a brothel. I hope you have not come all this way just to stare at me_. She piled the slices onto a plate and pushed it towards Edmund. "Eat it with the soup. It is very good. I loved it as a child."

"Why are you so cold to me?" asked Edmund, nibbling a slice. "What have I done?"

_What have you done? Where can I possibly begin?_

"Why were you cold to me when I was at court?" said Anne testily.

Edmund sighed. "Fair enough. I thought you would marry Northumberland's son."

"And after that? I looked for you all over court, I sent you messages and I was _worried _about you. Why didn't you summon me? You knew I was at court back then! Queen Catherine told me you were nursing a broken heart before my banishment. Was that at least true?"

"Yes…"

Anne sensed there was something amiss. "You're not telling me something," she said accusingly. "You eat my bread and drink my ale; can you not speak the truth?"

"That is the truth!" Edmund protested, breaking off a chunk of bread. "What else do you want me to say, Anne? I'm sorry I wounded your feelings!"

"Is the King planning a marriage for you?"

"Would you be jealous if I said yes?" Edmund joked.

Anne glared at him, her arms crossed and her eyes narrowing by the second. "You are the King's brother; I am only a mere noblewoman. I am destined to marry the man my father chooses for me while you can marry any woman you desire. Why should I be jealous? I will be bitter if my father arranges for me to serve your future wife." Catching a glimpse of his confused expression, she went on, "If I ever return to court, I have no royal lady to serve; the Queen has dismissed me from her household. She said she will call me back after Easter, but I am still here. I always thought the Queen was a kind and loving woman, but she is like any ambitious woman coveting for power. I never knew such a pious woman would enjoy toying with her subjects' emotions and hearts." She did not care that her words may be interpreted as treason. Who would report her to the King? Her grandmother? Lady Boleyn was upstairs and occupied in a mass of reminiscing thoughts. Nearby servants? They were all exceedingly loyal to the Boleyns and would never betray her for a coin or two. Edmund? Perhaps…to spite her.

"I have contemplated the idea of marriage," said Edmund, reluctantly after he realised she did not find his earlier words amusing.

"Oh?" said Anne impassively, stabbing a piece of meat viciously. "Who is she then? Who is the future Duchess of Somerset?"

* * *

Edmund longed to say, "You, my beloved Anne," but he could not bring himself to profess his love for her. _You rode all the way here to tell her you love her,_ he reminded himself. He almost choked on bread as another thought occurred. If he did not come all the way to Hever – attacked by pelting rain during his journey – to declare his intentions to Anne, why did he come?

"I want you," he blurted out.

An expressionless Anne arched an eyebrow. Honestly, he did not know what to expect as her reaction. Surprise? Anne was hardly surprised. "As a wife or mistress?" Anne asked, daintily placing a piece of meat in her mouth. As she chewed, she looked at him intently.

"I'm not my brother!" said Edmund, enraged. "I don't sleep with every woman I love!"

Anne laughed. "Forgive me for my caution, Edmund. I have a sister who is having an affair with your brother. If you love me, you must know I am no man's mistress. Jewels, trinkets and gold…I will not be bought with any of them."

"But…I love you…"

"Really? Prove it."

Edmund stared at her, his eyes widening with hurt. Here he was, offering her his heart, and she doubted his word. He is an honourable man and would _never _have a mistress.

"I am tired of women throwing themselves at my feet," said Edmund uncertainly. "Perhaps it will end when I wed. I would ask you to be my wife, but I'm afraid your family has not won back the King's favour and the Cardinal will be outraged if I marry you. He is already lamenting the loss of Katherine as a political piece and has vowed to have your brother executed. As of yet, Lord Rochford is still a prisoner in relative comfort in the Tower. I won't be surprised if the Cardinal makes it his mission to convince the King to execute Lord Rochford."

Anne twisted her knife in another slice of meat as if it was the flesh of her most hated enemy. "Are you testing my patience, Edmund?"

"Devoted sister, are you not?"

"We Boleyns never betray or abandon each other."

"It seems your sister has abandoned you to rot here in Hever. What of your father, the influential Lord Wiltshire? Why isn't he in the throne room, seeking an audience with the King to plead for your return to court? I think they have abandoned you."

"My sister Mary is one of loose morals and no sense. Oddly enough, even if she is berated or out of favour, she will smile placidly and be content. She probably thinks I'm happy here. As for my father, he is one of the most ambitious men you will ever meet. He doesn't care for me unless I have a purpose to him. He is probably attempting to create alliances with other nobles to free George. He may find it quite difficult with George already wedded to Princess Katherine, Mary married and now the mistress of the Duke of York and me here in exile." She sounded bitter. "Father was never good at making friends." She looked back at him. "Who will you marry?"

"I have a few choices," said Edmund uncomfortably. "There is Lady Anne de Laval, Louise Borgia, Duchess of Valentinois and Infanta Isabel of Braganza."

"Anne de Laval…" Anne mused. "I believe I met her during my time in France."

"Oh? What did you think of her?"

"My lord of Somerset, are you asking me to aid you in selecting a bride?"

Edmund grinned guiltily. "I only asked your opinion on the Lady Anne de Laval." His smile widened as Anne's eyes sparkled as they did during their past intriguing conversations.

"If you insist," smirked Anne. "She is fair and beautiful – quite wealthy too, being the only surviving daughter of Guy XVI de Laval, Count of Laval and Charlotte of Naples, Princess of Taranto. If you wed her, you will be Count of Laval and Prince of Taranto in her right."

"Henry will not be pleased."

"Indeed. He will be only the Duke of York while you will be Duke of Somerset, Count of Laval _and_ Prince of Taranto. Anything else, my lord prince?"

"Is she clever?"

"Like me?" Anne smiled beguilingly at him.

"Yes," Edmund admitted. "Is she like you?" Once the words left his mouth, he wanted to slap himself. _If I want to marry a lady like Anne, why did I not propose to Anne? By God, I insulted her with my foul words! She will never forgive me…_

Anne laughed. "She does not lack wit if that is what you're afraid of. Would your brother be concerned if you wed a woman whose fertility may be under doubt?"

"Are you telling me she may be infertile? How do you know this?"

"When I was in France, I was often well-acquainted with many French noblewomen who have a fancy to talk. It is said that Anne de Laval's mother had given birth a number of times, but only Anne survived. In turn, Charlotte's mother (Anne of Savoy) died giving birth to her. If you desire to have numerous children, perhaps Lady Anne de Laval is not the right woman for you."

"Oh." Edmund tried not to sound disappointed, but he longed to have a few sons and daughters to fawn and dote over. "I see."

"Are you aware the Duchess of Valentinois is a widow?" inquired Anne, pouring him another goblet full of ale. "Wedding a widow will not be advisable – even if you will be Duke of Valentinois in her right. Besides, she is a Borgia. Do you think the King and Queen will accept a Borgia in their court? She has a large stain of illegitimacy on her father's side. However, she is the granddaughter of a Pope. Perhaps the Queen will admire that."

Edmund had not considered the outcome of himself suggesting a betrothal with the Duchess of Valentinois. "If that is the case," he said uncertainly. "Then the only suitable choice is Infanta Isabel. She is of robust health and fertile and not royal enough to refuse a match with a King's youngest brother, yet not deemed unimportant to the King of Portugal."

"The Queen will be mightily pleased."

"Yes…"

Anne said nothing. He was a prince and she was a plain noblewoman. Princes must marry princesses for the good of England, not follow their hearts.

"Would you marry me if I was not a Boleyn?" she could not help ask.

Edmund looked at her steadily. "I will marry you if you were the miller's daughter. I don't care about your rank; I love you for you."

"Why torment yourself with considering these princesses for a bride?"

"I cannot offend the King."

"You do not think me worthy enough to be the future Duchess of Somerset?"

"Your family is under suspicion already. For the love I bear you, I cannot marry you or you will surely be executed or sent to a convent. Your sister is the Duke of York's mistress, your brother married a princess of England without royal permission and in the Cardinal's eyes, your father arranged a poor match for the Prince of Wales. If I marry you, the Cardinal will accuse you of seducing me. By then, the King will be tired of hearing about trouble caused by the Boleyns and banish all of you, perhaps even stripping your father of his titles and lands. My brother is kind, but tires easily. He desires a land of peace; a dream he strives to fulfil without any interference from ambitious nobles."

"An impossible dream."

"Well, that is the King's dream. My dream is to marry the woman I love and watch our children grow up happily and without worry."

"You said you cannot marry me."

"It does not mean I don't want to. Even if I am forced to marry somebody else, I will always remember you, Lady Anne Boleyn. If I die with a wife at my bedside, it will be you I think of. If we have a daughter, I will name her Anne after you."

"If George hadn't married Katherine secretly-"

"Then we would be currently betrothed and about to marry in summer," Edmund finished.

He watched her clench her jaw tightly. "What is it?"

"Nothing," muttered Anne.

"I told you the truth. You owe me that much."

"You will hate me."

"That is for me to decide."

Anne sighed and stared directly into his eyes. "It is my fault we cannot wed now – or at all in fact. I have shattered our dream."

* * *

Her heart pounded as she said slowly, "I suggested the idea of marrying in secret to Princess Katherine. She was quite upset, and George was drunk. I thought I was mending their broken hearts by uniting them in a secret marriage."

Edmund nodded. "I know."

"What!" Anne all but shrieked. "How do you know?!"

"You are clever and a friend of Katherine's. I considered Mary giving the idea to Katherine, but dismissed it when I heard Katherine married George Boleyn. Even though you were part of the Queen's household, you were a favourite of both Mary and Katherine. Besides, there surely must be more than one witness at Katherine and George's secret wedding, and who better than you? Oh yes, Mary tried to cover for you, and the King chose to believe that, but I think you were there, were you not?"

Anne nodded and said softly. "You informed the Cardinal, did you not? You were the one who caused George to be in the Tower."

Edmund did not deny it. "Yes. I had a restless night and went for a walk. I caught sight of you and followed you. In a way, I became witness to Lord Rochford and Katherine's wedding. I must admit, it was not my brightest hour. I was still angry at you. Out of spite, I informed the Cardinal. It was rash and I should have known the consequences. Now Katherine will not leave her chambers and it is all my fault. Only the Cardinal, the Queen and now you know of it. If my sister Mary finds out, well…I suppose you will hear her shouts from even here."

"I see."

"If you do not forgive me, so be it. I will leave tomorrow morning at dawn and I will never see or speak to you again. I promise."

"No!" said Anne, before she could stop herself. "You are not well enough to leave tomorrow. Besides, you won't know where to go. Stay here for a few more days, a week even. Write a letter to the King and tell him you are well. He is bound to be concerned for you. Stay here a little longer; I will show you around Hever properly. You will love it."

Edmund gave her a confused look. "People will talk."

"People always talk," dismissed Anne. "That is what we do."

"What if your father hears of it?"

Anne shrugged, knowing fully well her father would be in some way delighted at rumours of her becoming Edmund's mistress. "Oh, and Edmund," she said quietly, as another servant placed a lemon tart on the table and left. "I forgive you. I always will."

* * *

**Thanks for the reviews :) PopRockShawty, John I, King of Portugal married Philippa of Lancaster (daughter of John of Gaunt, 1st Duke of Lancaster who in turn is a son of Edward III of England) in 1387 which secured an Anglo-Portuguese alliance :) **


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